


Out of Sight, Out of Mind

by doc_boredom



Series: Stellar Objects [2]
Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, Lore Building, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, bombus appearance really, bombus mention, pining!phobos, really just talking about past drug use and current withdrawal, so just a heads up on that one, teenage!twrp, this is my domain now i guess, to rephrase reflection chamber i dun fucked up meouch, to rephrase reflection chamber it's canon typical angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-08-20 17:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doc_boredom/pseuds/doc_boredom
Summary: The Lepid and Leoian were anything but charity cases. Charity case was the kind of term that seemed to imply a certain inability- a helplessness of sorts, and Sung didn’t get that sense when he saw those two.Sung saw potential.And, you know, future best friends.-A companion piece for Reflection Chamber, detailing just what happened to Meouch and Sung while Havve and Phobos were on their adventure.





	1. Years Start Weighing me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, as I said in the summary, this is the companion piece to Reflection Chamber. A good majority of this chapter alone is reiterating a lot of what happened in the first half of RC through Sung's POV. If you haven't read it, you can get it with a fuck ton more detail in this one, but they can be read side by side or alone without too much disruption or confusion.
> 
> The next two chapters will focus on Sung and Meouch's adventure AND have more Meouch POV action. It's what y'all deserve.
> 
> THANKS FOR READING!!!

All Sung wanted was for everyone to get along.

Not in the universal sense of halcyon days, although wouldn’t that be nice? But rather on a smaller, more personal scale- limited to himself, Havve, and the two new friends he had been trying to make now for quite some time. Lord Phobos and Meouch, two vastly different beings from vastly different worlds.

Havve was aware of this want-need of Sung’s, partially because of how many times he had brought it up, but mostly because of the link that lay between them. It was an invisible, inexplicable thing. Tying their thoughts and feelings together day after day. And yet Sung couldn’t help but think that the robot didn’t really give a shit about any of it. There had been one too many one sided conversations about this hopeful friendship making of Sung’s. Times where Havve’s optics would cut to him sharply, burning with silent disapproval. No Sung, not _that_ Sung, you can’t _do that_ Sung, I _refuse_ Sung...

On and on and on, like he was the bad guy!

This was another one of those instances. Just the two of them in his room, alone together, as they had been so good at managing ever since they woken up in that icy cavern together nearly three year ago. Havve was leaned up against the door, arms crossed over his chest plate, posed in waiting. Sung’s latest project, a secret surprise present for Phobos, was currently abandoned on his desk. He sat there in his chair backwards, facing the robot, unable to keep his brow from furrowing. Charity cases! Havve had really went and called them charity cases...

The Lepid and Leoian were anything _but_ charity cases. Charity case was the kind of term that seemed to imply a certain inability- a helplessness of sorts, and Sung didn’t get that sense when he saw those two.

Sung saw potential.

And, you know, future best friends.

 _I mean it, Sung._ Havve was getting tense now, words going tight as they hissed between them. There was a mix of things there, hidden inside of them. Disappointment and worry and frustration too. For a split second there was a flash of dark curled hair in his minds eye. Horns peeking out from the crown of someone’s head, four eyes and a buck toothed smile, but then it was gone as soon as it had come, dissipating across their shared space.

Of course Havve would be thinking of Bombus.

Phobos and Meouch aren’t Bombus, he nearly shouted, but he bit down on his tongue instead. Bombus _had_ been a charity case. Gods, now that was something he could admit to without take backs, but that hadn’t meant the Sileni alien had been any less because of it. He had simply found himself in a bad situation with no means of getting himself out of it.

Of course Sung had been more than happy to help.

Like always.

Sung knew that look Havve was giving him despite it only being made up of his piercing optics and stationary, jagged jaw. It was the way the robot tilted his head just so. The weight of his stare. Judgement, it screamed. He was judging you. Two could play at that game though. Sung’s own lips tilted downwards at the corners as he leaned forward, lashes fluttering over his eye. _Sung._ He heard Havve warn. _Do not give me that look._

But it wasn’t hard to pout when he still had Bombus on the mind. Bombus had been a friend. At least, Sung had _thought_ he had been a friend. The empath had found him hollow eyed, hidden away in a dark alleyway on Mojave a year ago, wasting away among the decadence. Pain… he had been in so much pain. How could Sung _not_ offer the other boy his hand and take him onto his ship?

Havve had hated every day that had passed where Bombus would sit there quietly, not speaking, not doing much of anything but watching the stars pass by. Simply taking up space they didn’t have. Sung had been patient though. Sometimes you just needed time. Time to find words, reason, meaning…

And then he _had._  

For a little bit after that things had been _good_. Especially when Bombus had revealed that he could cook and play guitar. Even more so when he and Sung had sat back to back soon after, making something out of nothing. The thrum of his synth, the screech of Bombus's guitar, Havve’s frantic drumming finding it’s way to them in the too late hours, matching them beat for beat, measure for measure, moment by moment.

It had been the best when Bombus had looked at Sung one day and felt more than just helpless gratitude. Kinship, Sung would later realize. Bombus had felt the beginnings of belonging somewhere, of friendship.

Of course that would be when he decided to leave.

Maybe he had been scared by these new feelings. Maybe he had felt safe enough to finally go back out into that wild world. But whatever reasoning Bombus had had at the time, Sung secretly hated it. The Sileni had been special and Sung was certain he’d never see him ever again. Havve even more so. All that was left of him was a mess of a thank you letter and some sheet music that the empath still couldn’t bring himself to look at after all this time.

But this was different.

Phobos and Meouch were different.

 _Sung, I swear_. Ah, yes. It was the final warning. It was no fun being sad but sometimes it paid off, especially when Havve could only look at him helplessly before he began to crumble and crack. Say what you will about the murder machine, but Sung had known him long enough now to know his weaknesses.

This whole ‘oh woe is me’ pouting act usually did the trick.

“But they’re our _friends_.” Sung ho-hummed. He could almost hear the snort that the robot managed to issue before he took a few steps forward, glaring down at Sung.

_Your friends, and barely that, Meouch is this close to snapping and Phobos…_

Havve did have a point, even as he trailed off. Several, actually. But Sung wasn’t having any of this negativity, either. So what if he had found the two of them in the heat of battle, Meouch bleeding out on the ground, Phobos standing above him with fury murder in his beetle black eyes?

So what if the two of them now did everything in their power to put as much distance as this junker of a ship let them?

So what if he could feel Phobos’s will spider webbing like glass and Meouch’s tension darkening with each day?

There was a chance to make it better.

He just had to find the answer.

Time now to focus on the things he could actually manage. “Well you don’t help with that one!” Sung insisted as he gestured to Havve, picking up where he had left off. Wanting nothing to do with Meouch was one thing, but Havve? Phobos absolutely _abhorred_ Havve, his fear a living thing whenever the robot stalked into the room. Didn’t matter if Sung was there, holding easy conversation, laughing even. Phobos just couldn’t do it. There was something about the way Havve moved, the silence he held, the light of his eyes…

All things Sung could change and fix if Havve would just let him!

Havve’s hand found his shoulder and shoved it, hard. To the point of jostling Sung back into his seat. _I’m well aware of your feelings on how I apparently make Lord Phobos’s life a living hell, Sung._ Havve huffed, pinning Sung there with both his hand and his gaze, clearly upset. _As you are aware of my feelings on how I’m not going to let you remodel me completely just so he can have some peace of mind._

There were a hundred thousand responses that were ready to spring to the tip of his tongue but Havve continued to seethe down the link at him, not intending to stop. _They don’t belong here, especially together. You hoping that they’re just going to make amends isn’t going to change anything, and even if they do-_

Suddenly Havve stopped, but it was obvious where he had been going with that and it _hurt_. They’ll leave. Just like Bombus had. Losing people was one of Sung’s biggest fears. How many had he lost during the Ennui? Family, friends…? Their faces lost to him, to wasting and dust and a hole in his memories that he didn’t have an explanation for.

“You don’t know that though.” He barely managed back, hating how hard it was to speak around the growing lump in his throat.

Havve’s fingers spasmed on his shoulder and his gaze dimmed considerably. Guilt. Havve simultaneously was made up of his guilt and the need to due away with it. His grip tightened some and Sung could only close his eye in response, letting the perfect rhythm of Havve’s 808 wash over him. Breathe in, breathe out. Take a second to just _be_ , Sung.

When he opened his eye again Havve was staring back, mere inches from his face. _I don’t, but something in me says that the longer this goes on without any kind of recognition, the more likely it is that they will. They can’t stand to be near one another for good reason, Sung._

Once again Havve was painfully right and Sung _hated_ it. Meouch had been in the thick of the destruction of Phobos’s home planet. Had torn Phobos’s wings from his back after the Lepid Lord had been forced to cut out his best friend’s tongue from his mouth, not strong enough to kill him. Meouch had been hyped up on Funk fumes and gods knows how many other drugs but still, none of that mattered when there was nothing left to go back to, when everyone was dead. Now all Meouch felt was guilt and the desperation of his withdrawal, and Phobos…

Phobos was scared and alone and with a vow of silence that Sung knew he wouldn’t be breaking anytime soon. After all, if Deimos couldn’t speak, why should he be able…?

Gods, sometimes being an empath _hurt_.

“So, what do you suggest?” He steepled his fingers and let them settle in his lap as he leaned forward, cocking his brow, forcing himself to tuck that sadness away where it wouldn’t bother him for now. In response Havve pulled back and tapped his face plate, optics going dark with thought. All he needed was one thing to bring them together, to make them into a team…

A team.

“I got it.” Sung announced abruptly, causing Havve to stiffen some.

 _What are you up to?_ Gods, he sounded so scared! Sung was almost proud of himself but he didn’t dare say anything, instead letting his walls come down to block the robot off from peeking in to his head. It was his secret plan, damn it, and he was going to make this happen.

“I’ll let you know.” He stood and went up on his toes to pat the other’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze before leaving the room.

And as Havve’s wariness trailed after him, Sung couldn’t help but think about how perfect this was going to be.

-

It didn’t happen the next day, or even the day after that. It took time, all of it hidden away from Havve’s prying eyes and mind, done mostly in the dead of night when the robot was offline and recharging himself. Real X-Files shit, the stuff the Federation had let go off their radar because it wasn’t as tangible as other cases, simply forgotten with time… But if Fox Mulder could do it, Sung knew he could too.

It was gods awful late one night in the middle of it all, his eye slipping closed on him as he sat hunched over his desk. There was this whole armor thing he was working on for Phobos too between the planning and research, something that could make the Lepid feel safer, hide him away from the world if he saw fit. He was stupid behind on it, but gods, he was so damn tired...

The Federation recently had classified Phobos’s home planet as uninhabitable, the surface still smoking from the fires that had raged across it during the massacre. Between that and the Funk still trapped in the atmosphere, it was clear that it was doomed for eventual destruction once it got the votes. But with the right gear maybe Sung could honor the Lepid with one last visit before they did.

His head bobbed forward and Sung nearly went falling forward into unconsciousness when something sliced across his senses, causing him to startle back into awakeness. Phobos. He knew that agony. The familiar way it made his core ache, the frantic way it exploded out from the Lepid when the nights became too long and the darkness was all he had. Sung shoved himself up from his table, following it blindly until it led him to the other boy.

He was in the engine room, where the machines roared and chugged so loudly you could barely think in the chaos of it all. Sung found Phobos curled up on himself, panting and clinging to his shoulders, bent at the middle as he tried to suck in breath after desperate breath. “Phobs.” He breathed, mocking without meaning.

Once he had found Meouch like this, the same but not. Pupils slitted, body jerking and shuddering on itself, hurried words tumbling out of him as spit spilled from his maw. Sung had tried to reach out to him but Meouch’s claws had come out in response, a deathly silent threat. “Don’t look at me, don’t touch me. I don’t need you.” The Leoian had hissed out. “I don’t need _anyone_ anymore.”

Which was a lie, because Meouch couldn’t stand to be alone for too long since joining them, as he and Havve had both noticed. But the older boy would never admit to the dependency. It was too much like admitting he needed Funk to function, and _that_ was too close to admitting to the fact that he felt like he was nothing without it. Meouch needed to find himself, and there was nothing Sung could do to help with that.

For now.

Phobos on the other hand shied away one moment before clinging the next, and that was something that Sung could work with. It was as simple as kneeling before the Lepid when he found him like this, speaking in soft tones, taking his hands into his and talking Phobos through it. One breath, then another, and then another and the next. In out in until you found yourself again. Sung got it, the whole being the last of your kind thing, the guilt of it all. It was a lot, but at the end of the day it was what you made of yourself to honor them.

They hadn’t found that purpose for Phobos.

At least, not yet.

Phobos didn’t look up after Sung spoke, just keened in the back of his throat and rocked in on himself, spiraling further away. “Hey, hey hey hey.” Sung was on his knees then, giving the younger boy just enough space while still making his presence known. Sixteen. They shouldn’t know such tragedy already at sixteen going on seventeen, Phobos more so having just turned fifteen right before the massacre. And yet here they were. Phobos’s antenna twitched as a soft sound hiccuped out of him, more silent tears falling in response. “Hey bud, I’m here, I’m here.” This was one of those time where Sung didn’t trust himself to touch Phobos, knowing without words that it would be too much. So he knelt there and waited. Waited for Phobos to find his way back.

Seconds and minutes passed but Sung wasn’t sure how they all added up, just that some time _later_ Phobos settled into himself, his panic receding into a dark and hidden place inside of him. They stared at each other in the silence that followed, the Lepid’s face flushed and wet from all the tears, lit drastically by the light of Sung’s core. “You doing okay?” Sung asked, prompting a quick shake of Phobos’s head. He snorted under his breath and shook his own head. “Well, that was a stupid question, but you never know.”

A hint of a smile touched the Lepid’s lips but he quickly ducked his head, feeling gods awful for it. Sung’s core to flickered and pulsed in response. “Okay, howabout this one, are you… hungry?”Sung offered. Phobos peeked up and stayed still for a bit, and then a bit more.

And then he nodded and Sung couldn’t help but break out into the biggest smile in the world.

It was too late for the stove or anything like that, so they settled for bowls of cereal at the kitchen table. Phobos didn’t sit opposite from him, instead sticking close to his side, already on his second bowl. “Is that your favorite kind?” Sung asked between Phobos’s quiet but eager spoonfuls, his own growing soggy as he watched in wide eyed fascination.

Phobos stilled and shook his head, but then proceeded to tip back the rest of the milk left over at the bottom into his mouth. Sung stifled a laugh and dug his own spoon into his, trying to hide his smile before Phobos saw it. “Yeah well, nothing compares to Earthen cereal, if we’re being honest. Fucking… Lucky Charms. Now that’s a cereal. Gonna have to get you some one of these days so you can try it.”

Phobos tilted his head in question and Sung pointed at his hands in response. The Lepid understood immediately, holding them palm up, at the ready. “See, you’ve got… like the regular bits. They’re shaped like this…” Sung traced shape after squiggled shape into Phobos’s hands. “But then there’s the marshmallows, and those are the best part. And there’s rainbow ones, and there’s lil hats, and there’s balloons and hearts too.” He was drawing the first swell of a heart when Phobos suddenly snatched his hands away, balling them in his lap without a sound.

Startled, Sung stared at him, but before he could get a good read on what was going on inside of Phobos’s head there was a sound at the door. They both turned to find Meouch there, the fur on his bare chest damp with sweat and mane tangled, raw nerves rolling off him. He didn’t speak and yet Phobos stiffened and drew back in response, thoughts racing, heart pounding, breath coming up short.

Meouch’s nostrils flared moments before his he turned and left.

And as Sung sat there staring after him, Phobos’s fear a living thing around him, Havve’s words came back to him, loud and ringing.

_...But something in me says that the longer this goes on without any kind of recognition, the more likely it is that they will. They can’t stand to be near one another for good reason, Sung._

Tomorrow, he vowed. Tomorrow would be the day.

-

Nobody was ready for his announcement, least of all Havve. He had done such a good job of hiding it away from the robot, and the second it dropped it wasn’t so much a stone in a pond as it was a gods damned bomb coming down on all their heads.

Team building exercise time.

Sung had finally found the two perfect planets for them to go to, him and Meouch and Havve and Phobos. He didn’t dare trust the Leoian and Lepid together yet and what in the hell was the point of him going with Havve anyways? So this is how they’d split up and start to work on their differences, start to make something out of this mess.

Phobos was shocked, first and foremost, standing at his back without a sound. Meouch was in a state of disbelief, and Havve…

Havve was up in an instant, already screaming at him.

 _No, Sung, you cannot be serious!_ Havve seethed, but Sung pushed on, not willing to let the other talk him out of it.

“We’re gonna split up, of course.” He informed them, really playing up the whole thing, avoiding Havve mentally and physically. “Me and Meouch, Havve and Phobos.” Havve said his name again, loud and insistent, but Sung didn’t dare stop. “I spent the whole night digging up info on some places that looked like they needed help!” Okay, that was totally a lie. Whatever.

Dead silence followed in the statement’s wake, broken only when Havve moved to grab his forearm. Phobos jumped away and Meouch just watched them with hooded eyes the entire time in silent agony, silent as always. Havve didn’t even have to speak, just look at him with those damning eyes to get the point across.

Sung made the first move, pleading _. Trust me._

 _Trust you?_ Havve spit back, his grip tightening to the point of pain. Sung gritted his teeth against the ache and waited for the rest of it, the triade he knew would come. _You can’t even be bothered to tell me what you’re planning and you want me to trust you?_ Havve demanded as his digits dug in hard enough to leave bruises.

 _Yes, no, I don’t know._ Neither of them moved. No one did. _Gods, can we just try this?_

Havve growled in response, optics going dark and then bright and then dark again. _Like Phobos is going to go with me, Sung._ Without any kind of warning Havve’s frustrations shifted, turning into a personal loathing that hurt Sung’s heart with how vicious- how _unrelenting_ it was. Where had this come from? He opened his mouth to say Havve’s name out loud, only to be interrupted.

“Can you both stop with the secret conversation over there?” Meouch rasped, breaking the tension. He had a cigarette in his paws now and if there was something more Sung hated than the way the Leoian liked to claw his presence into the ship, it was the gods awful chain smoking he had taken up since Sung had rescued him. He passed it quickly between his fingers, his nervous tic making itself known. “Listen, Doctor, I get that you saved me and I probably owe you something, but I’m going to have to pass.”

Doctor. Meouch had called him that a number of times since they had first met. For the fact that he had patched him up and made him whole again, apparently. This is how it worked between him and Meouch. Awkward little pauses and bumps that Sung couldn’t make sense of. He didn’t have the link with Meouch like he did with Havve, the soft and mutable ways of Phobos either. It was just the two of them standing off at opposite sides of the spectrum, unable to make sense of one another.

Maybe that was another reason why he had split them up like he had. Because Meouch was a strange and foreign to him and he wanted to know more. Know what made the older boy tick and function, how far along he was in his path of leaving Funk behind him to see if it was finally time to extend a hand to the other.

To know what kind of person he could really be.

Well, you know, cat person man thing… totally not the point.

Sung spread his hands out wide, hoping to entice them all, finding it stupidly difficult with Havve still holding on to him. “C’mon, just… can you just at least try coming with? Same with you, Phobos. I know… I know you’re worried, and nervous, and like… scared of Havve. But he’s like, totally chill.”

Havve tilted his head at him, a drawn out _...Chill…?_ of annoyance coming to him. Sung stared at the robot dryly in response before shaking his head, continuing on. “Yes, you heard me right, Havve’s chill.” He smiled bright and wide, hoping Phobos would buy into it despite all the signs pointing to a big fat obvious NO.

The Lepid blinked and tilted his head towards his forearm, right to where Havve was still gripping him like a vice. Sung snorted and went to shrug him off but Havve held on even tighter, making a point of it, stupidly smug as they both got a hint of the Lepid’s growing hesitation. _Fuck you, bastard, let go_. The empath ordered.

But even as Havve did it was already too late. Phobos was working backwards towards the door, his hands folding over themselves over and over again in front of him. He could feel his wariness from here, twisting his stomach into knots on the Lepid's behalf. “Phobs.” He choked out, causing the Lepid to pause and look up.

Their eyes met and something _impossible_ passed across Sung’s senses. So quick and fleeting that there wasn’t time to dissect it before it flitted away, smothered by Phobos’s growing fear. The Lepid glanced away, now twisting his hands and fingers in front of him over and over again. “You don’t have to go, if you really don’t want.” Sung spoke softly as he stepped closer to Phobos, making sure to be careful. “I know this is sudden, and really unfair of me, but I thought maybe…”

He became painfully aware of the room and the fact that Havve was probably right. This _was_ stupid. Gusto and goodwill could only make up for so much, especially when everyone was looking at him like a gods damned fool. He pushed a breath out between shaking lips, hating the way his cheeks filled with heat. Stupid, Sung, so gods damned stupid…

But then Phobos touched him.

One digit after another, laying themselves down upon the same exact spot where Havve had gripped him only minutes before, infinitely more careful upon the bruised flesh. He was so tall despite being younger than Sung, four inches and some centimeters, but none of that mattered when Phobos leaned down into him. Sung stared up and remembered that impossible thing, of course, because how could he _not_ when they were like this? The space between them made up of moments and silence instead of distance, their own only because he had his walls up against Havve.

Phobos blinked and pulled away, leaving Sung reeling. He was doubly shocked when Phobos offered him a firm nod. “Yeah?” Sung managed to breathe out. He could tell Havve was surprised too, especially when the Lepid managed a glance in the robot’s direction.

Despite that surprise though, Havve stared back without hesitation, not once looking away. Sung touched the rim of his core, it’s heat searing to the touch, watching them both warily. Please don’t fight. _Please_. Meouch and Phobos fighting was a given, an expectation that surprisingly hadn’t fulfilled itself yet, but this was something he wasn’t sure he was mentally prepared for. He didn’t need multiple people at odds, especially if he wanted this to work.

Phobos finally broke the moment by looking away and that was that.

Relief flooded through Sung. “Okay, holy shit okay. Uh, nice. So, yeah!” He jumped away from the Lepid, grateful for the breaking point, for the fact that this was really happening, finally! Sure it had been a bit of a rough start, but now things were rolling.

 _Oblivious bastard. Could you be anymore stupid?_

Sung looked up at Havve from the kitchen table, his head tilting to one side. _What was that?_ He inquired. It appeared as though Havve had his walls up too, which was entirely fair, but that little part seemed to have slipped out on accident despite his best efforts.

 _You heard me, you’re stupid._ Havve sniped back, sniffing some. Sung stuck out his tongue before smiling, unable to help himself. It was simply now a matter of getting down to the important stuff and making sure everyone was on the same page and-

“Y’know, I still haven’t agreed.”

Leave it to Meouch, the prickly bastard. He had his cigarette in his mouth now, the appearance of the lighter more sleight of hand than actual physical work. Phobos didn’t so much as watch the Leoian inhale as he _felt_ it, his own chest going tight with it, jealousy and hate burning through him with the action. Great, now there was another standoff in the making and he was smack dab in the middle of it.

Once again, two could play at this game.

He took a step away from the table, kicking his leg out. “Well I’ll just have to join Havve and Phobos then.” Sung stood there, waiting for the response, waiting to see just how the Leoian would react.

Meouch took another long, hard drag, eyeing Sung over the cigarette the whole time. Something pleased and grim wriggled through the older boy as he pulled it from his mouth, not once breaking eye contact as he stubbed it into the gouge he had been working on for the past few months.

Gods, Sung hated that gouge the most.

It was one thing to find sheets torn up and scratch marks on the chairs and plates too. Even if Meouch could retract his claws it really wasn’t that bad. Almost like living with a cat, really, Sung tried to reason with himself. But then there was the purposeful ones. The ones that he found in the most interesting of places.

There was one on Sung’s door, long and thin, scrapped out in passing. Multiple inside the shower stall too, all on the right side, facing away from the door.

And then there were the ones on the captain’s chair. Sung had found those ones the most interesting, having seen them almost happen in real time.

It had been the day before he had found Meouch heaving on the floor, demanding that he stay back (don’t look, don’t touch) They had been floating aimlessly through dead space for days now, he and Havve trying to come up with where to go to next. He’d meditate on it, he told Havve after coming up with yet another bogus plan. Sit in the cockpit, watch the stars, think. He always felt better when he was under the stars, the less between him and them the better, so this was his favorite spot.

It appeared to be Meouch’s too.

He was curled up in the chair, nearly falling out of it with how large he was when Sung found him there. It was the first time he had seen the Leoian look so peaceful, _feel_ so peaceful too, not a worry to be found in his sleeping mind. Sung crept closer, keeping his hand over his core as to not wake the other with it’s brightness, wanting to get a closer look. Still, Meouch was made of different stuff than he was, so the moment he stepped too loudly Meouch was up and blinking, watching at him warily.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” He tried warmly, smiling failing as Meouch stood up and left without a word, the only proof of his presence the dying warm spot in the leather seat and the new claw marks he had gone and dragged into both arms.

This one, however, was made with the intent of pissing him off, and it did a gods damned good job of it too.

 _Careful, Sung._ Havve warned.

Sung resisted the urge to puff his cheeks and bluster. _I got this._ He countered, knowing full well Havve didn’t really believe in him.

He drew up to Meouch, speaking in a cool and measured voice as he did. “I’m sure you can handle being by yourself, Meouch.” He saw the reactions before he felt them, kind of like when you see a plane before you hear it, light traveling faster than sound, a doppler effect. A twitch of his tail, the way his foot bounced twice on the floor. By the time Meouch had brought his paw up to his face and exhaled, it was obvious it was working.

“Fine.” It didn’t so much as growl out of him as it ripped its way out from somewhere deep inside. Meouch shoved out of his chair and it was so loud that Phobos flinched, physically and emotionally, the sudden violence of it enough to shock all of them. Sung held his ground, balling his fists at his side. “Let me know when you’re ready, Doc.” Meouch mocked, his teeth flashing with a snarl before he slammed out of the room.

 _Oh._ Havve said after a beat. _This is obviously going to end very well._

Sung didn’t face him, his fist clenching harder at his side as his temple throbbed. “Fuck off, Havve.” He said aloud, unable to keep himself from noticing the way Phobos’s shoulders moved with a silent sigh.

Very well, indeed.

-

Sung almost wished he was going with Phobos.

There was still the question to whatever the hell happened earlier between them, but he couldn’t fixate on that for too long, not with the hundred of other things that needed to be done before they left. Besides, now was a time for gifts and good things and not of questions that maybe weren’t even valid and would definitely lead to complete and total awkwardness for the both of them if he was wrong.

Gods, awkwardness if he was _right_.

“I made you this.”

Phobos was tucked away in his little room, as he was so good at doing, nothing to it but a bed attached to the wall and a set of drawers low to the ground, sweaters and shirts and pants spilling out of them. It was stupidly endearing, not at all what Sung would ever expect of royalty, but that’s what made it so good. He couldn’t wait until they got out of this too small ship and into one where they could all just grow into it- into themselves. Sung stepped into the tiny room, smiling all the while.

The younger boy blinked down at him and then at his hands where the shining helmet lay in wait. He was surprised first, then curious, large eyes blinking in his rosy face. “See, first off, space safety.” Sung began, already ready to answer all of Phobos’s unspoken questions. “But also, get this, so obviously you’ve been having some breathing problems since… well, you know.” His words slowed, turning awkward. He couldn’t _not_ bring it up though, so the empath steeled himself and continued on. “Since the incident! And I thought why not equip you with some respirators! That way, if you feel like you’re having trouble breathing you can just hit this button and…!”

This was the real magic of it. The crowning achievement. He pressed his finger against the button and grinned as it hissed in response. “Buh-bam, it’s like a built in aspirator. Plus, you know, now no one’s gonna know what you are either with this! That’s probably for the best, right?”

When it came down to it though it was Phobos’s decision. Not his or anyone else’s on this ship. Still, deep down, Sung wanted the Lepid to like it, love it even. Phobos reached out and touched the rose gold metal, fingers gracing the top of the helmet before working their way down the tinted glass. Oh, goodie. He _never_ got to explain all the good stuff when it came to Havve, the robot taking one cursory glance before already knowing each piece and its purpose. “This material’s great too because you can see out but they can’t see in. C’mon, try it on!” He wanted to see it already, damn it!

Phobos took the helmet, studying it before worry began to pour off of him, his antennae curling inwards. Sung blinked, taking a moment to make sense of just what Phobos needed, perking when it came to him. “Ah, yeah, uh, let me help!” He raced around the other, not even thinking anything of it. He zipped the back of Phobos’s suit up along the length of his spine, humming as he did. It was a current work in progress, lacking something that he couldn’t quite place a thumb on yet. Later. When things had settled down. He’d work on it more then.  

“There we go. I can help with the helmet too, but I would just suggest pulling your hood up first, and then… yeah, like that.” The Lepid went about tucking the helmet under one arm, managing his hood with the other, up and over his fluffed antennae and short blonde hair. Next, the helmet, the true _pièce de résistance_. Sung couldn’t wait to see it on Phobos.

The helmet went on without a hitch, but when Sung looked at it, it became obvious something was off. “Okay, now, yeah… uh… turn it a bit.” Phobos did, more left instead of right, causing Sung to snort. He took a step closer, gesturing for the younger boy to meet him halfway. “Lemme help you, Phobs.”

Phobos leaned down and the empath couldn’t help but think of how this was an odd, alternate mirror to what had happened in the kitchen earlier. He was touching Phobos now instead, his fingers at the locking mechanism at the back of the helmet. Impossible, he reminded himself as he clicked it into place, for far too many reasons.

“There.” Still, he skimmed his fingers down Phobos’s neck and then his shoulders too, unable to keep from smiling. It looked gods damned amazing on him, and it was downright adorable when Phobos began to bop his head around, testing it out. Sung clapped his hands together, delighted by the feeling of a job well done, feeding off of Phobos’s own excitement. “Oh wow! Okay! It looks great! Gods, I’m good at this.” He couldn’t help but add the last part under his breath, stupidly pleased with himself. If he could make this helmet shit work, then he could make this plan thing work too.  
Right?

Right.

Think positive, Sung. C’mon now.

Phobos touched the sides first, then the top, fingering the antennae as he tilted his head left and right. “Oh, well, it would probably help if you could see it, wouldn’t it?” He scoffed and shook his head at himself. “C’mon.” He grabbed Phobos’s hand, dragging him towards the bathroom. It was so easy, and Phobos was so light.

They stood in front of the mirror together then, Phobos touching the sides of the helmet, watching his reflection do the same in the mirror. “See, I told you.” Sung leaned into him, touching the bits and parts on the sides. “Just gotta… make sure it’s all good… and perfect…” He stuck his tongue out between his teeth as he tweaked the last parts.

Phobos looked so good like this and he didn’t even have the armor on yet. Sung was watching him pull at his suit when a sudden wave of sadness crashed over Phobos, startling the empath. Why and how and what? “...What’s up, bud?” Sung ventured carefully.

The Lepid shook his head in response and shrugged, going for nonchalant. It was so obviously a front but Sung held up his hands, letting it drop for the Lepid’s sake. “You need anything else, because if not I have another surprise for you. I probably should have done it before.” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “You know what, wait here, I’ll be right back.” Gods, how could he be so stupid? He turned on his heel, not even bothering to announce his plans.

It was a hop and skip to his room, next to nothing when he was all hyped up like this. Sung gathered up the bits and pieces of armor he had made into his arms, ignoring how Meouch’s dread followed him all the way back to Phobos. Soon. _Soon_. “I’m ba-! Oh, Havve!” He hadn’t been expecting the robot to be standing here so casually. He cut a quick glance to the Lepid, gauging the situation before continuing on. “Didn’t know you were here. What’s with all the walls?”

He peeked over one, unable to help himself. _...Dumb ass._ He heard the robot sigh before they came up even higher.

Sung gasped. “Rude! Extremely rude!” He said aloud, glaring at his companion. He turned to Phobos, shaking his head, tsk-ing as he did. “He’s calling me names, Phobs. And keeping me out so I can’t call him out on it.”

Havve’s fingers lit upon the door frame and began to tap away, seemingly nonsensical with each beat and pause. But then Phobos started to tap back on the bathroom sink in a somewhat similar way and Sung realized they were having a conversation.

A real conversation!

“Are you two talking in secret code?” He yelped excitedly, wanting to confirm. He heard another sigh and then suddenly there was nothing between him and Havve, the robot beginning to speak to him over the subtle static.

_It’s Morse Code, Sung._

Sung’s shoulders jumped, eye going wide. “Wait, morse code!? What!”

_You would have known that if you had read that book I gave you, Sung._

“Okay, no. Now listen here, Hogan. I _did_ read that book!” Oh boy, if that didn’t get him a look of disbelief and a snorted _yeah, right_ in response. They stared at each other a moment more and Sung felt the beginnings of a _rooting_ in his head. Nothing too invasive, really only a peering in to his mind, but still he didn’t like that. “Okay, only the first few chapters.” Sung admitted sheepishly, hoping that'd be enough.

Havve didn’t retreat, beginning to dig in now, clearly not believing him. “Okay. Only the foreword. Are you happy?” _Out, get out Havve, I mean it._

 _Hiding something?_ Havve hummed, ignoring him, going a bit deeper. Too close to unearthing things he did not need to know (if he didn’t already, gods damn it all.) Havve tilted his head at an odd angle, watching him until he finally gave in. “FINE. YOU GOT ME. I HAVE NOT READ THE BOOK AT ALL HAVVE. I’M SORRY I’M A BUSY MAN.”

Havve slipped out of his head without a word but still gave him this side eyed glance, painting Sung a guilty red. _Man._ The robot scoffed a moment after. _You’re a child, Sung._

Sung’s mouth fell open. “FUCK YOU, I AM SO A MAN.” He shrieked. “JUST BECAUSE I AM SEVENTEEN-!”

Phobos tapped him on the shoulder, causing Sung to come up short and pause dramatically. “Oh, fuck, right. Thanks a lot, Havve! Distracting me from my official business.” He rolled his eye and sighed, the dramatics increasing. “I’m sorry for that, Lord Phobos.” Sung held the armor aloft, presenting it with a flourish. “I bring you armor for your escapades!”

It was the same material and color as the helmet, a pair of kneepads that had a bit more flourish than Sung’s own basic black ones, shoulder pads that went over his upper arms too, wrist guards, a small belt, a chest piece to match. “We match.” Sung whispered, leaning into Phobos with a grin. He couldn’t see Phobos smile back but he felt the immediate joy the other felt as he did. “But we’re gonna have to get you some new kicks.” He gestured down to the fine leather boots Phobos was wearing. “Those are some neat boots, sure, but do they look as cool as these?”

Time to get back at Havve. He stepped back and snapped his leg up without warning, nearly catching the side of Havve’s face. “HOO-AH. I THINK NOT!”

 _...I will kill you in your sleep, Sung._ Havve threatened, fingers twitching at his side, moments away from grabbing his leg and laying him out on the floor. Sung ignored him like before, letting his leg come back down to the ground. “Okay we’ve…”

_We’ve?_

“Fine. I, apparently, have wasted enough time here and should go collect our feline friend.” Sung sighed, getting the hint. “I know how excited he is after all to go on this grand adventure of ours.” Havve laughed at that and Sung resisted the urge to flip him off. He brought his hand down instead on the robot’s back, patting it, knowing full well what Phobos must be thinking as he looked at them. The odd couple, complete opposites, impossible two halves of a whole. “Havve here knows where you’re going, so good luck guys!”

And as Phobos’s joy turned to dread and Havve stared at him silently, feeling the same thing, Sung couldn’t help but think that they’d need it.

-

He still had blood on his claws.

Sung hadn’t noticed it, but Meouch was certain his robot had. Blazing red light had fallen upon him one too many times in that kitchen while the empath had blathered on about his stupid plan. Meouch hadn’t been able to help himself though despite that. Splitting up? Going back out into that great unknown where anyone could recognize him and drag him back to his crew? Helping people?

Meouch didn’t _help_ people. The _Panthera_ , his father if he was going to be honest with himself, had drilled that into him from the moment they had dragged him onto that ship of theirs. There was only loyalty to the cause and the crew and that was it.

Everything and everyone else didn’t matter.

He heard Sung traipsing about outside his door, hurry-scurrying back and forth between his room and Phobos’s. He hated how close he was to the Lepid, how close he was to any of them in all honesty. But the only other alternative was the room at the end of the hallway, and if there was anything worse than being close too all of these bastards, it was being too far away.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, desperate for another cigarette.

Thankful for the black of his vest, the older boy slipped his bloodied digits into the pocket on his chest and pulled one out. He’d have to get more at this rate, and something told him that Sung wasn’t going to add them to the grocery list any time soon. “Fuck.” He said again, this time around the cigarette, digging out his lighter at the same time.

How many more minutes before Sung came banging at his door, demanding that he get ready? How many more inhale-exhales could he get out of this thing before he did? He closed his eyes as it caught and started to count, bare paw tapping along the grating on the floor. One and two and three and four and-

“Hey man, you almost ready in there?”

Sung had to be pressed up against the door to sound that damn close, cheek and palm to metal in that too eager way of his. Meouch stared at his side of the door, his mind suddenly going blank. _Press your cigarette into your palm_ , something dark inside of him whispered in the silence of it all. _Make it hurt._

_Make him hurt, too._

Meouch forced that gods awful thought from his head. The whole empath thing was still fucking weird to him. The fact that Sung could just know what was going on inside his head at any given point set Meouch on edge. There was things the younger boy didn’t need to know about him, hell, that no one but himself needed to know. Before he could do anything stupid, Meouch spat the cigarette out from his mouth, letting it burn itself out on the floor. “Yeah, I’m working on it.” He lied.

“I doubt that.” Sung responded in a sing song voice. “But you do you, Meouch.” He walked away then and Meouch was left there to watch his cigarette die out in the corner, his stomach cramping with nerves.

“Fuck.” He managed a third and final time, finally forcing himself to stand.

He peeked out into the hallway, sniffing the air, ears swiveling as he sought out to find out where everyone was. Phobos was back in his room, Sung moving towards the front of the ship, and the robot… Havve was waiting there for the empath, as he always was. See, you could smell them, hear them… they were still all here, Meouch.

So why can’t you just move past this damn door?

He could taste the dust on the air, the ship so old that it’s filtration system couldn’t do a damn thing about it. His claws sheathed themselves, then unsheathed again, his anxiety growing with each passing moment. What would the crew say if they could see you now?

What would your dad say, Meouch?

That got him out there, fur bristling with the thought. His first few steps were purposeful but then he stumbled, coming up short. He probably should wash the blood off his hands first, then find Sung, find out what the hell he could scrounge up to take on this adventure of theirs. He already had a list of planets he’d straight up object to if the doctor even so much as uttered their name.

Or he could just stop wasting time and fucking go.

He found Sung alone, oddly enough, hair falling over his face as he leaned over a series of holographic maps, flipping through them with his index finger. “Glad you’re finally here.” He said without looking up, a smile touching his freckled face. “We’re going to drop off Havve and Phobos first, and then it’s just you and me!”

He was way too excited about all of this. “Goody.” Meouch rumbled back, peeking at the map. Wow, these really _were_ off the radar. He hadn’t even heard of half these places, which was both a good and a bad thing. Just how in the hell had Sung found these anyways?

 _You could ask him_ , a much softer voice than the one before suggested. _Just ask! What’s the harm in it?_ “So.” He started awkwardly, taking another step forward, swishing his tail about nervously. “Just uh, where in the hell are we going?” Meouch opted instead.

Sung perked up, eye shining, like he hadn’t expected Meouch to speak more than a word or two to him. “It’s this one here. Metalion. Federation actually had it under it’s jurisdiction for a bit, so if you wanna read up on it, go ahead. There’s some data, even if it’s outdated.” Sung pulled up another screen, eye scanning down the length of it. “But really it’s just… metal jungle, classified as abandoned a whiles back. There’s been no attempts at reinstating a population there, but-” Sung suddenly became distracted, leaning in towards the screen he had been working with. Meouch stifled a sigh, tapping his foot against the floor, waiting.

“But?” He half prompted, half growled when the silence stretched on for far too long. Sung didn’t even look apologetic as he focused back in on their conversation. Instead he got this look about him, brow slanting eagerly, lips quirking into a smirk.

“But something had to make them leave in the first place right?”

Sung wasn’t wrong. The lack of data made sense too. Jurisdiction meant that a planet would be supervised and protected by the Federation so long as you opted into paying for their protections and signing over a majority of your freedoms. It wasn’t actually worst deal in the world, but some planets wanted to be entitled to their own privacy and rule making, so not everyone did it. “Federation sent out their scanners and found it abandoned, so they just let it drop.” 

“I’m surprised they even did _that_.” Meouch admitted slowly. Checking up on a planet that wasn’t even theirs anymore? What was the point? Sung’s interest in Metalion suddenly made sense. Dropping off the radar only to be found completely abandoned months later? What had happened there…?

Fuck, was he really getting caught up in this?

Sung was watching him in a way that basically said yes, he was, and yes, he had noticed it too. Meouch went hot under his fur and rolled his eyes, hoping to shrug it off. “It’s probably nothing.” He huffed.

“Or!!! It’s a government conspiracy. OR! It’s a mystery that’s been waiting to be solved for years now!” The tiny boy was suddenly in Meouch’s personal space, going up on his tiptoes in a futile attempt to get up in his face. “Whatever it is Meouch, we’re going to find out, together!” Sung exclaimed excitedly.

His earlier stomach cramps came back, twisting up his insides until it hurt as the Leoian looked down at him. He didn’t have to be an empath like Sung to see how excited the other was, eager to make some kind of difference, a change. “...Yeah…” Meouch managed finally, apprehension growing, the realization that he was the worst person for Sung to have on this adventure becoming painfully transparent. “Together.”

Meouch smiled.

It wasn't pretty.


	2. Burning Out, Running in Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ya girl stuck in a bus station after seeing the last TWRP show in Toronto for the year so we're here I guess  
> (I'm here until 1 AM and I have a 5 hour ride ahead of me, please please please send me help, even when you're reading this years down the road your good vibes will ensure I never get fucked over by public transportation ever again.)

Once again, he couldn’t help but think that Doctor Sung was _way_ too excited about all of this.

He was in that canary yellow suit of his, framed in rounded black armor he had crafted himself, smiling at him from under a wraparound visor that Meouch has never seen before. A real sore thumb if he was being honest with himself, but it was clear that Sung didn’t concern himself with that fact. _Adventure!_ his everything seemed to scream. _We’re going on an adventure!_

Too bad he had been all adventured out years ago, the Panthera wringing any joy from it the moment he was forced onto his father’s ship, wrenched from his mother’s arms…

“So we got our phasers!” Sung chirruped, dragging him out of his reverie.

“I have _my_ phaser, Doc.” Meouch interrupted him dryly, thankful that he hadn’t seemed to notice his momentary toil.

Sung paused for only a millisecond (not even) before recovering with an playful laugh. “Well, you’ve got your phaser and _I’ve_ got my wits and charms about me. Is that better, Meouch?” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that begged to be returned. Meouch ignored it, fucking with the belt at his waist instead. Sung was the most non-threatening thing the Leoian had ever seen in his nineteen years, an impossible soul- shining out in the dark like a star. “And we can’t forget the most important part!” He dug into the ridiculous hip bag at his side, still smiling, wider somehow. “I got snacks! I hope you like soylent.”

Oh gods.

This wasn’t going to work. They were too opposite, side to side magnets repelling one another the moment they got too close. Already he could feel the excuses crawling up his throat, each one of them weaker than the last. _I can’t._ That should be enough with the empath, right? _I just can’t do this. It was too much too soon. Just leave me on the ship and go…_

Of course, Sung noticed it right away. The empath rushed him, going up on his tip toes to close the distance between them (and failing miserably.) “Listen, Doc…” He took a step back, not liking how close the other suddenly was. Why’d he have to go and do that? Ignore personal space, boundaries…

Getting in his gods damned head without even asking him if it was okay?

Sung pressed his hands together, not taking the hint. “Please.” He wheedled. “Just… We can go down there and spend an hour exploring, yeah? It’s a good excuse to get out of the ship, stretch our limbs out, get some fresh air. It’ll be great!” Desperation colored his words and Meouch could only stare at the other boy in response, guilt encroaching on his discomfort, putting him at odds with himself.

_Why do you care? He’s nothing to you. You don’t even like him!_

_He saved your life! He’s the reason you’re here!_

_You would have been just fine._

“Bullshit.” He hissed out loud, not even realizing it until he noticed the hurt expression on Sung’s face. “Fuck, I didn’t… listen…” Meouch covered his face with his paw, heaving a long sigh. Despite his earlier complaints and dread over the fact, Meouch wondered why Sung couldn’t just use his stupid empath powers to figure it out. Why did he have to explain himself? Anything really? Meouch growled under his breath and let his paws drop to his sides uselessly. “Just forget it.” He finally spat out, hating how gods damned awful he felt the moment it left him.

Hating that he even cared in the first place.

Just because Sung had saved his life didn’t make them friends, even if the empath wanted to change that fact desperately. They were just two individuals thrown together by terrible coincidence. Once he was in control of himself, once he was finally better again, he’d leave them all behind.

No more guilt over what he had done to Phobos when he had been out of his mind, to the hand he had had in destroying the Lepid's entire planet and race. No more needing to appease these strangers he barely knew anything about. No more strings attached, just himself and whatever space had to offer.

Sung’s mouth fell first, the corners of it tipping downwards before the rest of him followed suit. He rocked back on his heels and seemed to shrink on himself, becoming impossibly smaller than he already was as the light in his chest guttered. Silence descended over them last and Meouch didn’t know what to do with it. He wanted to break something. He wanted to rip a new gouge into this shithole ship. He wanted a cigarette.

No, gods no he really just wanted Funk.

To feel that thrill again. To be out of his head. To get those voices to encourage him instead of judge him again. To feel fucking invincible, even if it was for a little bit.

Just one more time…

“I’m still going, even if you aren’t.”

Meouch started at that, not expecting it in the slightest. Earlier he had known the cat and mouse game Sung had employed, baiting him into agreeing, knowing full wel he couldn’t stand to be alone. But this time his words weren’t laced with the same intent. There was something different there. Something Meouch couldn’t make sense of. “And what, I just stay here?” Meouch scoffed. There was no way! Not after Sung had put up such a big fight earlier on.

“Since that’s apparently what you want, yeah. I guess.” So he _had_ figured it out. Good. Right? Meouch hated all these doubts closing in on him, making it harder to distinguish the right and wrong. What he wanted and what he needed to do. “More snacks for me.” Sung added with a shrug.

He rolled his eyes and laughed. But then second after second passed until they had added up to ten plus and it was obvious that Sung wasn’t lying. “And what if I fly off with your ship?” He had to ask. It was a question that was begging to be asked, just like how Sung’s earlier smile had begged to be returned. He wasn’t even sure if he was looking to pin the empath at that point. It was just words really, a means to fill space and waste time.

The other boy pushed his visor up onto the crown of his head, pining his hair back with the action. You could really see how young he was when he was like this. How did a gods damned sixteen year old end up piloting this ship through the stars with nothing but a robotic bastard guardian at his side? But then again, couldn’t you ask the same thing about yourself Meouch? It was laughable really. They were all too young for this life, but already too old for it too. Tragedy had a way of doing that, after all. “Where would you go if you did?” Sung countered solemnly, his words a purposeful weapon.  

Meouch’s fur bristled immediately, the taste of acid rising up in the back of his throat. Fuck you! He wanted to roar. There was infinite places that he could go. Mojave, the Milky Way, Atlas and Celes or even Centauris too. Name after name came to mind and yet he couldn’t speak a single one aloud.

He didn’t dare.

“I fucking hate this.” Sung groaned suddenly with a shake of his head. He was always doing that. Surprising little actions that didn’t make sense to the Leoian. Nonsensical things like tapping spoons against his knee at the kitchen table, dancing in place while in wait, blurting random words out without warning. It was probably all that emotional build up. It didn’t have an outlet, no means of getting back out into the world. “Listen Meouch, I’m not the kind who does ultimatums or deals, but I can make you a promise.” Sung unclasped his hadns and held them out, palm up, a sign of good faith apparently. “I promise you that if this doesn’t work out, that if we get down there and you hate it, or if nothing happens, then you can tell me any planet, any galaxy… Any whatever, any where. Just name it and I’ll take you.”

No way.

Meouch didn’t know if he wanted to smile or cry. It was the perfect excuse. “Anywhere?’ He repeated back in the stretch of quiet that followed, voice low and rough.

Sung nodded, his voice oddly hushed as he spoke, the kind of quiet Meouch knew he reserved for Phobos when the Lepid was hidden away in the dark. “No questions asked. That’s a promise.” Sung breathed before the beginnings of his usual smile began to pull at his mouth. “Whaddaya say?”

The older boy looked out into the inky darkness and spied Metalion in the distance, it’s reflective surface too bright to look at for took long. There was still the matter of whatever had happened there, and now with Sung’s promise being thrown in… How could he refuse? He’d be a fool to. _Maybe it’ll all work out for the better._ That soft voice hummed in the back of his mind. _Maybe this is Fate._

 _Fuck the Fates,_ the nastier voice snapped back. _This is all on you._

Either way, he couldn’t say no.

“Let’s just get this over with.” He’d get to it when they got there. No need to tear himself over it yet, right? He ignored the way Sung jumped in place and cheered, steeling himself against his revolting nerves. “The sooner the better.” He added under his breath, pinning his ears forward.

No matter what, this would turn out interesting one way or another.

Meouch could only hope it would be good.

-

 

Sung had known Meouch was a lot, but that had been, well, _a lot_.

One thing after the next, an undeniable black hole eating the Leoian up from the inside the whole while. A small part of him felt guilty, his constant wheedling and digging akin to a nail picking at a scab, exposing the raw wound that lay in wait underneath, but Sung couldn’t help it.

It was just his nature, after all.

At least Sung could take pride in the fact that they were actually making some kind of strange, convoluted progress. Meouch was talking to him. Full on conversations too! Could the same thing be said for Havve and Phobos,  he wondered to himself. Maybe he should check in, just in case… The link lay lax between him and the robot, lying in wait. He gave it a tentative tug, getting a sense for the distance between them before dropping in.

He saw the stretch of nothing that lay before the other, a thick fog the likes neither of them had seen before. Lumachroma was an enigma, next to nothing recorded about it’s residents or origins, but it had seemed like a safe bet for the two.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

Dream-not dream-dream? Havve wondered as he stared out into the haze, his optics barely making a dent, his worry growing. Sung touched upon his senses, hoping to ease them. _Nah bud, it’s real._ He informed the other with a soft laugh, startling Havve. _You doing okay down there?_

_Not sure yet, I’ll let you know if it gets dangerous._

He cut off without warning, clearly not in the mood to talk. Sung relented and pulled back into himself, giving a loud sigh as he did. This was supposed to be quick and easy, not messy and drawn out, nearly ending before it even started…

Nothing could ever be go as planned, could it?

“Fortuna give me strength.” He muttered under his breath before pushing his visor back down. The Fates didn’t mean anything to him. Everything was dependent on chance and choice, the things that you carved out for yourself and tossed out into the Universe, hoping for the best and making something out of it.

He was letting Meouch handle the landing. There was a reason Havve did most of the flying when they were together. Sung didn’t trust himself outside of flipping the autopilot switch on and off and even then he had a stupid fear that he’d mess it up somehow. Meouch however… he was strapped into the captain’s seat, paws steady on the controls as he went about manuevering them into Metalion’s atmosphere. “You’re pretty good at this.” He said in an offhand way, hoping to start up a normal conversation that didn’t leave both of them reeling and gutted by the end of it.

“Mmm.” Meouch hummed back noncommittally, back to his normal moody ways.

Sung pulled a face and sauntered over, putting his arms up on the back of the seat to watch the descent. When Meouch didn’t say anything (feel anything either, really, except a minor undercurrent of usual annoyance) Sung took that as an excuse to start talking more. “This’ll be my twenty-third planet. My first new planet experience was uh, something alright.” Still no reaction. Alrighty then. “Me and Havve woke up in the icy cave together. I didn’t know where I was and he was covered in blood, which was downright terrifying, as you can imagine. Especially when he started talking inside my head.”

Meouch’s ears twitched but he kept his gaze pointed forward. There was an inkling of interest there, Sung could feel it. He grinned to himself and continued on, letting himself fall back into the memory. He remembered the way the ice had clung to his lashes, how it had been so cold that it had hurt to breathe. “That’s where we found this ship though actually. I don’t think I ever mentioned that.”

To this day Sung wasn’t sure how they survived that long. He had been half starved and frozen through, his bones sticking out at odd angles through his pale, pale skin as they collapsed into the broken doorway. Havve’s battery had nearly been depleted too, saved only by the backup generator Sung had managed to unearth from deep inside the hull. “Anyways, wouldn’t really suggest it. It was gods awful. Pretty sure I could have died in all honesty.” He tipped back on his shoes, knowing full well he sounded too nonchalant for the severity of the situation. He couldn’t help it though. He had gotten so good at brushing these kinds of things off. Your whole planet dying would do that to you. Lingering… looking back… it didn’t make sense to do that when it was so far back in the past. It just led to pain, just like it had earlier with Bombus.

Meouch finally spared him a glance, a purposeful side eye that spoke volumes of judgement, but Sung noticed something else there too. He had been there. Still was. That state of near death where nothing seemed real, everything right outside your reach.

Let me help you. Let me fix you. I did it once already! Nothing would ever compare to the slick of Meouch’s blood on his arms and hands, or to the pale flutter of life just outside his reach, drifting further and further away with each second. Phobos had stood there and watched without watching, his sword hanging limply at his side, his beetle black eyes unfocused as the tragedy unfolded.

Shock. Phobos had nearly killed Meouch and went into shock.

Sung felt responsible for both of them, if he was being honest with himself. At the very least he could mend them up before he sent them out once more into the stars. Who would have known that Meouch’s nickname for him would be so appropriate? Part doctor-fixer-healer, part growing boy.

Nothing was easy. Never, ever was.

“C’mon Meouch. You promised!” They were all landed and docked and he couldn’t help it. His earlier excitement rose up from inside, causing him to start doing jumping jacks in place, looking to burn off the excess energy. “One hour minimum bud. Let’s get out there and make something happen!”

Meouch gave him a thousand yard stare, his annoyance slamming against Sung’s core, but ignored it, pumping his arms and legs in place, armor bouncing with him, mental count reaching fifty plus. He had sensed that earlier excitement coming off Meouch when he had told him the strange tale behind Metalion. It was just a matter of pulling him back in again. “We. Are gonna. Have. The time of our lives!” He said between breaths, smiling all the while. “So let’s go!”

Metalion was the exact opposite of what Sung had spied on Lumachroma through Havve’s eyes. Everything was sharp and defined, the sun glinting off the various metallic surfaces. He squinted, the tint of his visor barely helping the matter. “Meouch!” He started as he stepped out into the open. “Did you know Metalion is actually the Greek term for metal? Well, that and mine-slash-quarry. You know how those old timey Earth translations go.” The Leoian look unimpressed as he joined him, ears swiveling left and right. “Uh, you wanna go back real quick and see if we have any shades for you?”

“I’ll be fine.” His nostrils flared as he scented the air. “Pupil’s just gotta adjust. We’re wasting time.” Meouch shoved past him, tail bobbing in the air, claws tapping at the handle of his phaser in an impatient fashion. “So, what’s the plan, Doc? Where do we even start?”

“Here.”

He plopped down on the ground, finding it warm to the touch. It could probably serve as a ductile surface, he realized as he kept his back turned to Meouch. Malleable if anything. It made sense why the Federation had wanted a planet like this in it’s lineup. Resources were key. That’s why they had always eyed Phobos’s home planet with it’s miracle cures and strange flora, pitching their case until it was too late. “...Keep watch for a minute, will ya Meouch?” He didn’t even wait for the Leoian to confirm, instead letting his lid slide closed over his eye, reaching out and beyond.

It was different from finding Havve. He knew that path all too well, falling into it without a second thought, distance the only thing to cause any kind of hesitation before he found it once more. With anything and everyone else it was letting his core take in whatever the universe was willing to give him. The pain, the wants, the needs of whatever was out there, letting them become his own burden for however long he allowed it to.

His core sensed Meouch first, of course. It drank up the older boy’s growing exasperation before it unearthed the blackhole gnawing deep inside of him, begging to be filled before it ate itself whole. No, Sung told himself. That’s not what you’re looking for right now. Beyond even that, pushing further into Metalion’s depths, sensing, searching… C’mon, give me something, anything… He tried to reason with whatever lay in wait.

And just like that he hit a wall.

It came as a surprise, almost knocking him out of his focus. How? It was almost like the mental blocks he and Havve put between one another when they needed alone time, but there was no way. A link went two ways. This was just one.

A wall was just a wall though, not a fortress, Sung reasoned. Even if was weird. Don’t want me coming in, huh? We’ll I’ll just force my way over. It was stupid, but he was stupid too, so it was a given. He pressed in once more, feeling his core run hot in his chest distantly, almost like a warning.

It pushed back.

Sung laughed because it was impossible. His abilities didn’t work like that. It was all just one way street with him, even with Havve, who had to wall him off to get him out. His whole life was knowing too much because he couldn’t get out of other people’s heads, feeling every little thing they felt and then some. Maybe that’s why he decided to ignore the strangeness of it, because it simply couldn’t be, and leaned back in once more to start again.

It pushed back again, harder this time, over and over again until Sung was back in his own body once more. He didn’t dare move after it had all happened, his breath caught somewhere it shouldn’t be as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He wanted to laugh again but that didn’t feel right. Nothing about this felt right.

Maybe Havve would know.

It was a long shot but he was desperate to hear the other’s voice at this point, hopeful it would anchor him. Sung gave the link a tug just like earlier, eager to find his friend on the other side.   _Hey Havve, you’re never gonna guess…_ Sung tried to keep his tone light as he spoke, not wanting to cause any alarm. That was the last thing either of them needed right now. _The weirdest thing just happened._

There was only silence in response.

 _...Havve…?_ He tried again after a beat, refusing to believe that what was happening was actually happening. No. No, no, no. _C’mon, stop fucking with me._

The silence grew until his ears rang from it, impossible to ignore.

Havve was gone.

-

One moment Sung was sitting on the ground, shoulders rolled back under his armor, his face turned up towards the sun, the perfect image of zen.

And then he broke it with a laugh.

It wasn’t one of his usual laughs, ringing out through the hallways of the ship, merry and light. No, this was an ugly bark of a laugh, the amusement behind it a second thought. The kind of laugh you made when you were in a state of disbelief and had no other way of expressing it. Meouch bit down on his tongue and resisted the urge to ask the empath what he had found, waiting quietly instead.

The next moment came and it was even worse than the laugh.

Sung was up on his feet in an instant, looking this way and that, mouth working soundlessly. “What?” He snarled and took a step closer, this close to shaking Sung. “What did you find?!”

“I-I… I don’t…” He didn’t miss the way the other touched his core before their eyes met, the white of Sung’s showing over the line of his dark visor. “Why can’t I feel you?” He whispered in silent horror.

“What?!” Meouch spluttered back, not understanding.

But Sung’s answer would have to wait.

Something had found them.

He almost didn’t notice it at first and even then Meouch was certain it was his mind playing strange tricks on him as it did. Hallucinations had been common when he had been strung up on Funk and gods know what else and it just seemed natural that he’d be spiraling back to that point, but then he saw it. Really saw it. The shifting shadows in the strange cuts of metal, watching with impossible eyes.

“Don’t move.” he hissed between his teeth, hoping Sung would just shut up and listen for once.

A fine shudder ran through the younger boy but he did as he was told, throat bobbing oh so subtly behind the high collar of his suit. Meouch could see the fine sweat break out upon his brow, hear the way his heart thundered in his chest. He couldn’t focus on Sung now though. He tested the air with his tail, a slow and measured act, swiveling his ears all the while. It was the predator in him, rising up eagerly in the face of the possible threat.

They had taken just enough steps to place a bit of distance between them and the ship, which was already bad, but then there was the fact that the hatch was locked too. Stupid junker ship… it’d take a minute maybe even two to go through the process of opening it and closing it again, and by then whatever it was would be upon them. “We’re going to have to run.” He mouthed the words, not trusting himself to speak.

“What?” Sung managed back, the breath punching out of him.

His muscles strained in a way he hadn’t felt for years. Anticipation. The thrill of the hunt, even if he was the prey. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? He hadn’t felt this excited in ages. If not for the fact that they could very well die here Meouch would be thankful for it.

“Trust me.” He breathed back, still keeping his eyes locked with Sung’s. “Run.”

Sung’s heartbeat tripped before it righted itself again, and without words they did.

Neither of them had any idea of where they were going, but Meouch didn’t let that deter him in the slightest. Fast and faster yet, Sung’s pace unwavering as they shot further into the strangeness of the metallic woods. “It’s behind us still.” Meouch managed out. “Gaining.” It didn’t have a heartbeat to track, just the sound of metal parting in awful, sporadic shrieks to announce where it was. “We need to get it off our trail.”

“Split up?” Sung spit out, cheeks already flushed with color. He wouldn’t be able to go as long, even with that boundless energy of his. He had to think fast.

_...Leave him behind and take the ship._

Meouch nearly went crashing to the ground at the sound of the voice in the back of his head. Use Sung? He could almost see it, really. It’d be as easy as pushing the empath to the ground, letting whatever it was fall upon him to feast, taking the ship for himself and never looking back.

 _See, now you’re getting it._ The voice purred. _He isn’t important. He’s nothing._

 _He saved you!_ The other insisted, sounding far away.

 _(A weight upon his chest, a low and begging voice at his ear “please please please please please.” over and over again as he slipped further and further away. “Please don’t die on me.”_ )

 _He didn’t do anything!_ It shrieked in fury. _There’s still two left!_

That was their best kept secret. All Leoian’s had nine lives in whole. It wasn’t uncommon for cubs to lose a handful in their earlier years. Expected, really. But no more than three, maybe four if they weren’t in the Fates favor.

But Meouch was only ninteen and already down to two left.

Sung didn’t know that he hadn’t really done anything that day. There were some wounds they could never heal from, but a sword through the heart was something his body could mend just fine. That was his secret to carry though, letting them believe that it really had been the empath who had made him whole again.

 _So do it. You don’t owe him anything. He’s means nothing to you_.

( _A hand at his throat, the smell of rotting flesh filling his nose, the wicked kiss of the brand against the back of his shoulder as the Panthera marked him as one of their own. “You mean nothing to me.” A disgusted voice seethed. “But you are my blood.”_ )

How many times had he pressed needles into his skin? Inhaled fumes? Snorted up lines of gods know what to feel something again? Only to find solace in Funk? The way it made him feel powerful, strong enough to face his father and come out on top?

“MEOUCH!”

For a terrifying moment Meouch was sure he had done it without even realizing it. He saw Sung sprawled out on the ground, his hair a damp mop upon his head, visor knocked off to the side, but then the Leoian spied a strange tangle of metal upon the ground and it all made terrible, awful sense. Tripped, he had tripped, he hadn’t done that.

It wasn’t his fault.

Meouch saw it then and everything in him recoiled at the sight of the thing that had been chasing them through a parting in the trees. It wasn’t a monster, it was a gods damned nightmare. A roiling, towering mass of _black_ that caught in the sun, staying completely still in silent wait.

What?

Why?

How?

“Fuck.” Meouch breathed out.

There was no way of fighting that.

It probably couldn’t even be killed.

And then something _worse_ happened.

Those impossible eyes opened up on it’s surface once more, but it wasn’t just one or two or even three of them. It was twenty and fifty and then hundreds more, followed by imprints of faces and hands pressing outwards as it began to roll forward again. “Fuck.” He choked out in disgust and fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

What the fuck was that thing?

Sung was still on the ground. Had he broken something? Meouch was frozen in place, unsure of what to do. “Get up!” He finally screamed, hoping it would knock some sense into the empath. “GET UP!”

Sung stumbled up onto his feet and tripped forward, almost falling again before he righted himself once more. It was close enough to him that the hands just missed the curve of his shoulder pauldrons, catching on thin air instead, barely a hairsbreadth... It’d catch him on the next pass, and then what?

Meouch didn’t want to find out.

He met Sung halfway and ripped him forward, barely making a dent in the distance between them and it, but it was better than nothing. “We can’t stop.” Meouch spit out, already on the move. Exhaustion was catching up to him too, painting his fur in a heavy sweat, but what else could they do. “Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

“I can’t…” Sung whimpered. There was sweat down his entire front and Meouch could hear the way his heart stuttered violently inside his chest. Gods, forget sacrificing him, he was going to end up killing Sung if they kept this up.

“Ship. We have… have to get back to the ship.” They’d have to circle around once to get the doors open and even then it was suicide. Forget not getting the doors closed in time. It’d just engulf the ship whole. Then it dawned on him. “Sung, you were right. Split up…”

Sung gave a low moan in the back of his throat, breath coming out in desperate pants between his clenched teeth. “‘M scared. Meouch I’m… I’m scared d-don’t… don’t make me. P-Please...”

Meouch almost stopped dead in his tracks. Ever since he had woken up in that ship, Sung smiling down at him, the Leoian had always considered him the golden boy. There wasn’t anything Sung couldn’t do. He was always up first thing in the morning, working out, cooking (and failing at making anything edible if he was being honest), doing yoga poses in zero gravity, tinkering away at the kitchen table on some strange new project the likes of which Meouch had never seen before. The music too. There was always music in the ship when Sung was awake, either of his own making or strange songs he had found in his travels, filling the silence that the he, Havve, and Phobos managed to make so well.

So to hear Sung say he couldn’t do it. To hear such defeat in his cracking voice…

“Yes.”

It was cruel but it was the only way this would work. He heard the whine Sung issued in response, low and choked, but when nothing followed Meouch knew that the empath understood. “‘M gonna slow down, and you… you’re gonna… fuck." He sucked in a gasping breath. "Yer gonna double back to the ship. Get it open, set off a flare, let me know you’re inside and then close it.”

“WHAT?!” Fucker had enough energy to scream at him, apparently. That was good. Meouch shot him a quick look before looking forward once more, mindful of the ground and anything that could trip them up.

Anything that could lead to their doom.

“I’m gonna… s-stay close, it takes… two minutes!” Two minutes for it to close. “You need to… to be in the pilot seat ‘n ready.”

“I don’t know how to fly!” Sung was crying now but there wasn’t anything left in his body to produce any tears so it was just a miserable keening noise, high and reedy with lack of air, issuing from his slack mouth. “Meouch pl-please…”

“WE’RE GOING TO DIE IF YOU DON’T DO THIS SUNG.”

There would be no coming back from being taken by this gods awful thing. They’d become a part of it and Meouch had a feeling that it wouldn’t be pleasant. The way it moved… the way the eyes on its body would blink into existence one by one and then in tandem…

He didn’t want to think about it any more.

There must have been something in his wrecked voice that convinced Sung because already Sung was drifting away from him, beginning to head to the left. “That’s it Doc.” Meouch rasped under his breath. “On the count of three.”

“One…” He took a deep breath.

“Two.” He fell back a step.

Sung shot forward the exact moment he came to a complete stop. “Three.” He whispered, a victorious grin coming to his face.

Only to have the last of the breath knocked out of him when the monster spit into two.

“Fuck.”

They were _fucked_.

-

Gods, he was going to throw up.

He barely had any breath left inside him and his whole body was covered in sweat, his suit clinging to every inch of him, feet slipping inside his own shoes as he forced himself to keeping running, running, running.

He gulped at the tepid air and kept slamming forward, one foot after another, one arm pump and then the next, sparing only momentary glances at the ground to make sure the same situation as before didn’t happen again. You can’t die here. You can’t die now. Just keep running, running, running.

For Havve and for Phobos and for Meouch too.

 _Something_ was still tearing after him and he didn’t dare look back. If it had somehow known and gone after him then this was it. He’d die here on this gods awful planet that he went and handpicked for himself. It was terribly funny, he supposed. Probably something he’d laugh about if he survived.

If, if, if.

Sung couldn’t remember the last time he had been inside of his head like this, all alone, nothing but his own streaming consciousness to keep him going. What he’d give for that subtle static that the link issued when they were both awake, a reminder that the other was there always.

Please don’t let Havve be dead.

Please, please, please.

Everything was blending together and he could feel his body giving out. Each breath was fire, each breath was a sob. Just a bit further Sung. Just think of it like your cardio work out back on the ship. Just get through it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He took a corner too sharply and slammed into a nearby tree, nearly knocking the remaining breath out of his chest before gathering it all up again. Even then, agony radiated up his side and for a moment Sung was sure he had cut himself open, but a quick glance reassured him he was fine.

Look back while you still can, something in him insisted.

And so he did.

It was smaller but still tearing after him, hands sucking at the ground as it pushed itself forward. Somehow it had split, just like they had…

Just what the hell was this thing?

It hit the tree in the  same fashion and Sung saw the way it glommed onto side before slipping down, puddling on the ground uselessly before it rounded itself out and started after him again. He gave a choked laugh, not quite believing what he had seen. It had a weakness of sorts.

He just had to figure out what.

Trees. Something about the trees. It seemed to ignore them, shying away from the towering giants to the best of it’s ability. He had been set on taking the most open path, but now something in him said to head to the trees.

Sung slipped between one trunk and the next, slowing down considerably. Worth it. It had to be worth it! He kept telling himself that as he danced between the next set, feet crossing over one another before straightening out again. Look back, look back now, damn it!

He did and found it hesitating momentarily, hands pressing against the curling metal bark before they sloughed away into nothing. It was something in the trees! He gave a hoarse laugh, unable to help himself.

Each eye focused on him before they blinked themselves into a million open gnawing mouths, issuing a scream the likes of which Sung had never heard before in all his years. He covered his pointed ears and stumbled away, frozen in terror as he watched it begin up again. “You were… you can’t…” He whispered, his throat thick with saliva. He couldn’t move though. He had stopped and now there was no starting again. “...Please…”

Another hand touched a tree and it turned into nothing, and then another. It was losing itself the further it pushed its way into the foliage. Move Sung, a voice like Havve’s shouted at him. Move!

He finally managed a step back one step but he couldn’t look away. It was awful. Screaming louder and louder as it decimated itself in it’s frenzy to get him. “Stop!” He finally screamed back. “Just stop!!!”

It was nothing but a puddle now, spread from the beginning to the trees to only a few feet from where he stood, nothing but inky blackness staring back at him. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re what’s fucking me up.” He gasped out, still nowhere near to catching his breath in full. “What are you?”

“I am Baltaschchit.”

Now that he hadn’t been expecting.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sung spluttered.

A form raised up from the puddle, faceless and expressionless, humanoid enough though. “Baltaschchit.” It repeated back in a childs voice. “I am a substance made by the people of Lumachroma, a polymer meant to bind and repair.”

“Baltaschchit.” Sung repeated back. “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

Literally anything you were managing right now? He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Talking, let’s start with talking.”

It sighed and tilted it’s head up to the sky, as if it was already bored with him. “It is the collective knowledge I collected when I assimilated the population into my being.”

“...What?” Sung hissed.

“The collective knowledge I collected when I assimilated the population into my being.” It repeated simply.

The eyes, the mouths, the hands, the sudden disappearance of the entire population. It all made sense. Sung gaped at it, his earlier terror creeping upon him once more. A sentient science experiment gone wrong, consuming all that stood in it’s path. “What happened with the trees?”

It cocked it’s head sharply. “You are not privy to that information.” It hissed. “Next question.”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Sung put his hands on his hips, drawing in a deep breath. “So you’re assimilating and binding. I get that. But why? What’s the point? Or can you not tell me that either?”

A mouth appeared in the middle of it’s face, stretching grotesquely wide. “You’re all the same. You are constantly generating waste, I was made to rid you of that waste. I take things that should not exist and do away with them.”

“You mean an entire alien race?” It was his turn to hiss now, eye narrowing in his flushed face. “The fauna too?” But not the flora. Why were the trees left? The ground even? How had it not just eaten this planet alive.

“Precisely. You as well, and your friend, and your ship. You are not required. You are wasteful. Damaged goods.” It’s smile tilted in it’s face, stretching this way and that. “The poison is draining from his veins but it’s taking far too long, and you.” It reached out, this close to touching his core. “You are missing your most important part.”

“What?” Sung whispered. What had it seen?

What did it know?

“Your memories, star singer.” It hummed, the words sending a strange shiver up his spine. “What you need in order to be you again.”

His stomach dropped before going back to where it belonged again. “What did you just call me?” Baltaschchit tittered and skated back, pulling it’s substance back along with. It was regrouping, becoming whole again. He had wasted enough time already. He needed to go…

“Star singer.” It sang, two new voices joining it as it grew in size. “Peace bringer, the Universe’s safe keeper. But you are not who you need to be. You are nothing. You are a waste, and it is my duty to do away with you.” A hundred voices thundered. “Your friend is next, and then I will wait until the next comes, and the next, and the next after that.”

“No.” Sung breathed.

“Then you better run, star singer. Run, run, run.”


	3. Dopamine

It had been too long, it hadn’t been long enough, Sung was dead, Sung was _gone_.

Meouch didn’t know which one was worse. All he wanted was for his thoughts to fade into nothing as he ran, empty out until he was nothing but a blank slate, but they had managed to keep up with the Leoian the entire time. Fuck. When was the last time he had felt like this? Soaked in sweat, mouth desert dry, his thoughts fleeting and foreign, doubts crowding in closer with each passing second?

When the withdrawals started, he realized. That’s when. That’s when he had felt this fucked up. This beyond repair. Irrevocable in every sense of the word.

A dead man walking on bided time.

But he wasn’t running on Funk fumes now. He was finally clean. You just had to ignore the reek of tobacco on his fur and clothes, the fact that his claws all too readily found the still healing gouges in his skin and pressed into them until his thoughts cleared again. He was finally getting better.

He was finally going to be _good_ again.

And he’d be damned if he let this fucking thing take that from him.

 _Why do you always do this?_ There was that first voice again, the cruel one, already too loud, jolting him from his thoughts.

 _What, run? He doesn’t really have a choice right now if we want to survive._ The other voice chided, a temporary balm against his shot nerves

The first voice turned into a convincing purr, just as it had before when it had tried to convince him to trip up Sung. _You don’t know that. Turn and fight, Meouch! It’s weaker now. Lesser._ It shifted then, becoming growling and savage, clawing at the inside of his skull. _Stop running and fight, damn it!_

Gods, it was like his father was right there with him. Like he was ten and terrified all over again. The Leoian laughed despite not having the air in his lungs to do so, face tipping up towards the savage, blinding sun. “Fuck off.” He wheezed, feeling rebellious. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He could have never said those words to Commander Kion. Never dared. Not even when the Funk took hold and Meouch truly lost himself to it would those words become a spoken reality between them. They settled deep inside of him instead, as heavy and poisonous as lead.

Too long, not long enough, he was dead, he was gone.

_“Why can’t I feel you?”_

What had they done?

The monster was still tearing after him. Gaining steadily. Why couldn’t he think of things that mattered, like how to stop this damned thing? Think Meouch, think. But there was nothing there.

Nothing but his fears.

Dead, gone, dead, gone.

 _Duck!_ Both voices screamed at him, much too late.

He just didn’t hit the tree. It was a full on collision, his vision tunneling into something darker than black as they connected, the breath punching out of him in one last horrified gasp. No. No no no. This couldn’t be it, Meouch thought as he fell. His body refused to move though, completely spent as he lay there on the forest floor. All there was was blue sky and striking metal above him…

And there was the thing.

A nightmare in every right.

It blacked out the sun as it leaned over him featurelessly, tilting this way and that, studying him almost, as if it could make sense of him with just a glance. Meouch’s throat clicked as he tried to swallow, his revulsion growing as those same faces from before pressed against the surface from the inside out with gnawing teeth and hollow eyes. _Hungry_. It looked so hungry like this.

It was going to eat him alive.

“Please.” He begged, knowing it didn’t matter in the end.

“Waste.” A thousand voices echoed back before fading into just one. “You are a _waste_. Your veins are still poison, your mind nearing shatterpoint. What use are you? What can you possibly give?” Was that a challenge or a second chance? Or was it simply just part mocking, part musing, something not even meant for him?

Still. He opened his muzzle, his tongue paper dry as it passed over his lips. My everything. My all. Gods, what little I have left, just _take_ it. Meouch’s throat clicked again as he tried to form the words, completely useless as his breath rushed in and out of him. _Useless_ . Just like him. Just like his father had insisted for all those years when he had been with the Panthera. _Useless_ , punctuated by a slap. _Useless_ , accented by a kick.

 _Useless_. The voice inside his head said, a perfect copy of Kion, finally drowning the other out.

Maybe this is how it was supposed to happen. His fate. He didn’t have a future, especially with Sung and Phobos and Havve. The empath was a supernova, Havve a black hole. And Phobos? He was metamorphosing… A stellar nebula just beginning to shine. Meouch though?

He was a dead star.

There was no other way to phrase it it. He had _nothing_ left. Every day he felt like he was drifting farther, losing himself to the black. Still, his paws came up of their own accord, claws shooting out in a silent threat- something inside of him refused to give in. “You would fight?” The single voice asked him, oddly childlike in it’s wonder. “Even now?”

Even then... Something in him had reacted in the same way when he had seen Phobos level that sword at him nearly three months ago. The sight of it, rusted and brutal, cut through the haze, drawing something up the likes of which Meouch didn’t think of himself capable of anymore.

A will to fight.

A will to survive.

“Even now.” He rasped back before swiping his paw out. He felt the sharp points of his claws catch on the surface of the monster before tearing it apart, easier than any sheet of paper, easier than Phobos’s wings. Screams poured out in response, deafening him in their desperation. Oh gods, were they inside?

“NO!” The monster shrieked in a voice like Legion, impossible and large. Meouch let himself strike out once more, trying to get a better look at whatever, whoever, lay inside.

It struck back immediately, nearly flattening Meouch as it came down. He felt the hands on him, pulling at his clothes and fur, trying to pull him into the screaming mass. His entire body spasmed in response, disgust and fear breathing life back into him. “I am Baltaschchit! Why do you deny me my right, my purpose?!” It demanded in every voice it had. “You are nothing! nothing!!!”

But he _was_ something, wasn’t he? Even if that something wasn’t necessarily good. The realization startled him but stuck. He was somehow a part of Sung and Havve and Phobos’s lives, somehow tangled up in all of them. He roared his denial until his voice broke, and then he used his teeth to snap and tear at the encroaching darkness even as it began to swallow him whole. It wouldn’t be like Phobos, where his frenzy died as soon as it had been found, his body all too willing to accept the blade the moment it had begun. He had reasoned that with deserving it. But this?

No way in hell.

But tooth and claw were not enough. Not enough at all. “It’s just like I told your little star singing friend.” Who? Sung? Meouch’s mind reeled as the monster hissed at him. “I will do away with you and him, and then the next and the next after that. Time is no matter to me. It’s not trouble at all. I exist to rid this world of waste.” It whispered then in a low and pleased voice, like they were sharing secrets instead of tearing each other apart. “They made me for that, after all.”

His lips pulled back from his fangs, baring them in a last defiant act. “Bastard.” He spit. “Fuck you.”

It laughed a laugh like broken glass. “Your feelings on the matter are inconsequential. Soon they will be nothing at all. You will see. It’s better this way. No Funk, no father, no fear.” How did it know these things? Just what was this thing? “Everything will be in it’s right place, just as you’ve always wanted.” Hands caressed him as it’s voice pitched into softness, speaking over his screams as it swallowed him whole. “You’ll never be alone again.”

-

There it was.

He had finally found the ship.

He wanted to cry but stopped himself. There was still the fact that he had to unlock the hatch, set the flare, get it running too… but all Sung could think about was that he had made it. Really, actually made it.

You can do this, he reasoned with himself because Havve wasn’t there to do it. Don’t forget you survived the tundra with only Havve’s optics to paint the path bloody, the strain of your newfound link the only thing keeping you sane. And Meouch! You saved Meouch too when death seemed like the only possible result.

But you hadn’t been alone, he reminded himself.

So now all he had was himself to trust.

Sung looked back and found Baltaschchit crawling towards him, the most humanoid he had seen it, the slowest too. Was it still recovering from before or was it biding time for it’s other half to reunite with it?

Worse… was it playing with him, a cat to a mouse, seeing how far he could get before it ate him up?

“Wait awaits you star singer?” It cooed at him as it neared. “Why are you so eager to leave?”

There was that little fact too. The thing it kept insisting on calling him. Star Singer. Star singer, peace bringer, the universe’s safe keeper. Each syllable had been weighted with a purpose the likes of which Sung had never heard before. How did it know these things? Did it really? Was it all just lies?

What did any of it mean?

He didn’t dare grace it with any kind of response, instead forcing himself into action once more, putting one foot behind the other, letting his weight slide back onto his heels as he worked his way backwards. “Is it your other half or the lost lord that you long to reunite with once more?” It knew. It knew, it knew, it knew. Calling those words to him in a high and saccharine sweet voice, too pleased for it’s own good. His core went cold as the realization, dread slipping down his spine. “Or maybe it’s your stars.”

Sung snorted despite himself, refusing to let himself buy into anymore. “You know,” He started in an unsteady voice before finding his footing once more. Literally. He almost tripped over himself, his nerves skyrocketing as he faced Baltaschchit. “When I figure out how to kick your ass and save everyone, I’m gonna have a long, hard talk to whoever taught you how to monologue, because I’m over this.” He said in the most willy-nilly voice he could manage, even going as far as to slap an over exaggerated glare onto his sweaty features with a waggle of his finger. It’s all he had now at this point. “Really you’re just… just wasting time at this point! Isn’t that like the exact opposite of your purpose?” He huffed a laugh, stupidly proud of himself with coming up with that one.

Which was the wrong thing to do, Sung realized as it reared back with a furious shriek before charging him.

Baltaschchit was an evil, sentient blob sure, which was stupid in theory, but in action it was an absolute nightmare. It roared with every voice it had as it came at him, so loud it caused the trees to shake, the very ground. “You waste my time, my energy, my everything! You have nothing to give me! Nothing to prove! Just like the rest of them. All they wanted was to save their precious planet and I did what they could never do. What they could have never done if they kept living here!”

It struck. Not him though, Sung realized the moment he opened his eye, but the ship. “No.” The word all but choked out of him. “No, no-!” Not the ship. That was the only way they could escape from this hell. Without Havve, without the ship, they would die here. Baltaschchit didn’t care though. No, it delighted, heaving excitedly as it dug deep into the paneling...

Only to go very, very still before it began to fall apart.

Sung saw it happen as if it were in slow motion, bits and pieces of Baltaschchit dropping to the ground like blood. “No.” It whispered, sounding just like he had moments before, a mixture of disbelief and despair. “No!”

It turned to him, each mouth upon it’s surface gaping wide in agony. Did the people inside feel it too? Sung’s stomach twisted and cramped but he didn’t dare move. “Who told you? First the trees, now this?!” Baltaschchit hissed, the childlike mocking gone from it’s voice, leaving only hissing misery behind. “How did you hide it from me?”

He didn’t have an answer because he didn’t know. But he had to figure it out, fast. Something popped and fizzed in the silence from behind him and sung turned to find wires spilling out from where Baltaschchit had dug in.

The ground, the trees, the electricity running through his very ship. It had to add up somehow… His mind went from one thing to the next, leapfrogging from one possible conclusion to the next, trying to find the common ground. Your core, too. Don’t forget it pushed you back.

Push, pull.

Repel, attract.

“Repulsive force.” He whispered as the answer came to him like a lightning strike. “Of course.”

Baltaschchit was a gods damned magnet.

Whoever had made it had had enough common sense to program a fail safe too. Natural diamagnetism at it’s very core, if he had to guess. Whatever was holding it together also broke it apart if it touched the right material. Or maybe the word he was looking for was wrong. Whatever it was, it was ingenious. “No wonder they’re still all standing! The trees, they- they force you back!” Sung marveled as he began to pace, losing himself to the growing logic of it. “And just now, with the ship…” You could demagnetize a magnet by applying an alternating current to it. “AC/DC!” He shouted in a joyous voice. Y’know, if Baltaschchit hadn’t tried to eat him alive, this would honestly be one of the coolest things ever.

Except it had.

Multiple times.

“You didn’t even know, did you?” Baltaschichit croaked. “It was just pure, dumb luck, wasn’t it?”

Pure dumb luck? Sung took a step closer, narrowing his eyes at the creature. “Her name is Fortuna, actually.” Fortune favored the young, the dumb, and the bold, and he was all of those things thank you very much. “Any last words?” Sure, he was being dramatic and cliche, but else was he supposed to do? Watching something die, even something as terrifying and awful as Baltaschchit, was a lot ot handle.

It’s eyes slid to him. “What else was I supposed to do?”

He hadn’t been expecting _that_. A question of consequence. It’s voice didn’t even waver as it was posed, neither did it hollow out. It was just a simple question in response to his own. Baltaschchit had been made to do away with waste, so it had done just that, hadn’t it? What was so wrong with that?

Sung shrugged his shoulders, feeling the lightweight armor move with it. “You got me there.” There was no right answer to give in a situation like this. No moral gray area to pluck from. “For what it’s worth, you did a good job.” Too good of a job, he reckoned, but it was dying, and you didn’t speak that way to dying things unless you had to. “What about your other half?”

“Fairing much better.” There was nearly nothing left. Was everyone in the other half? Was that even possible, or would they be releasing spirits to the sky once they destroyed this son of a bitch? “Your friend, not so much.”

Meouch.

“Don’t.” Sung warned, as if that would do something about it. But Baltaschchit simply gave a final laugh before it finally broke apart, leaving nothing behind but too many questions and not enough time.

He went to his hands and knees, thankful for the kneepads and the way they absorbed the shock, his hands slamming against the surface of Metalion. “Son of a bitch!” He breathed out. “You son of a bitch, give him back!” Gods, he didn’t even know if it was true but the implication of it was too much to handle. First he had lost Havve and now quite possibly Meouch too.

_Alone with only yourself to trust._

Something crawled up his throat, causing it to tighten in its wake, but he choked it back down. “C’mon.” Sung told himself, willing his body into action. He couldn’t just stay here. If Baltaschchit did have Meouch… even if it didn’t, he was wasting time.

The hatch _did_ take forever to open, and the entire time Sung kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to see Baltaschchit’s other half watching him, grinning madly. Had it felt the same pain? Come to the same conclusion? Sung had to assume so. “Gonna go on a vacation after this.” Sung whispered to himself, tapping his foot against the ground. “Nice vacation. It’s what we deserve.” Or maybe they ought to focus on saving money to get a new ship. Maybe both. He’d have to ask Havve.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to hear Havve again.

 _I hope you’re having a better time than me._ Sung uttered across their link, secretly hoping that Havve would respond back, but it was no use of course. _Because I’m having the worst time of my life, and you don’t get to say I told you so. I swear I’ll kick your ass if you do._

He grabbed two flares, trading one with the soylent bar in his hip bag while he kept the other on hand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He added as he tore at the wrapper with his teeth. This was supposed to be easy.

 _Nothing ever is._ Havve would have said back if things were as they were supposed to be. _You should know that Sung._

 _Yeah, well._ He took a bite and aimed the flare gun towards the sky, finger gracing the trigger as his entire body pulled itself taut. He’d fire it, get in the ship then, and wait. _...I’ve never been one for good decisions, now have I?_

Damaged goods, Baltaschchit had called Meouch. Poison veined.

His arm dropped, the flare still packed tight inside.

Havve would be so disappointed, but he had a future best friend to rescue, and if this didn’t seal the deal Sung didn’t know what would.

-

He was somewhere he shouldn’t be.

Somewhere so dark even his Leoian eyes couldn’t see what lay in wait. He felt himself though, everything still in it’s right place as he patted down his front and sides. “Hello?” He called out into the waiting gloam.

The sound of deep slumber answered back.

Measured breath after measured breath, the kind that you managed after you slipped into the perfect state of sleep, where all there was was warmth and sweet dreams. Meouch reached out, hoping to make contact with whatever was making it, but there was only emptiness on all sides, impossibly endless as it stretched on.

His own breath quickened, but then he remembered his phaser and the lighter in his pocket too. Apparently it hadn’t taken either of those things. That was extremely fortunate for him. “Alright.” Meouch murmured to himself, lifting the lighter up to his face. “Let there be light.”

It took two tries but finally the lighter bloomed to life. Nothing to his left and nothing to his right, Meouch discovered. So where? Who was sleeping, and where did they sleep?

He hoisted the lighter as high as it would go and found the answer waiting for him above head. Sleepers, no… not that. Dreamers. That was the only way describe the host of bodies that lay up so high. They were tangled up in metal flowers and vines, an endless menagerie of quick-silvered creatures caught in a sleep walker’s dance between their forms. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He murmured before he could help it.

How’d they even get up there? How the hell was he going to get them down?

The more he looked the more he found. It wasn’t just those metallic dreamers either, but other things, treasures, and people too. Aliens of every shape and size. Meouch had a feeling if he crept in further along he’d find buildings, homes even. No trees though, which he could only chalk up as a strange coincidence since he couldn’t figure it out.

“SUNG!” He shouted before he could help himself. He had to know if the empath was here too, consequences be damned. Otherwise he’d be up there (on the other side?) waiting for him if he wasn’t.

Right?

_Dead, gone._

He took a steadying breath and dropped the lighter, eyes straining in the dark. The dreamers took a collective breath above him before sighing their exhale out. “You’ll join them, soon enough.”

Meouch spun on the heel of his booth, mane whipping around his face. “Where?” He snarled. Where was it? Where was that son of a bitch? “Stop worrying.” It wasn’t coming from above or around.

No.

It was in his gods damned _head._

“Out.” He growled until his chest shook with it. He didn’t need a third voice, two was already too much. Meouch felt his claws unsheath unconsciously as he walked further into the darkness, trying to get a better sense of where he was at. “Or else.”

“Or else? What, are you going to kill yourself?” It challenged him in that small child’s voice it had, causing Meouch to come up short. “That’s the only way it will work, you know, we’re one in the same now.”

Meouch closed his eyes and drew in yet another breath, this one much shakier than the last. “So this is what you do.” He was careful to phrase the question in such a way that it was a generic statement at best, a wild accusation at worse, keeping his tone bored as he did. “You don’t actually eat anyone, you just store them…”

“Yes and no.” It hummed, too pleased for it’s own good. “See, I’m inside you, but you’re inside me too.” Great. That made literally no sense at all, and it didn’t sit well with him either. Meouch waited for it to explain but nothing followed, of course. “Don’t think about it too much though. You’ll sleep soon, and you’ll have your dreams.”

But his dreams were worse than the waking world. His dreams were where Kion waited, where the press of the brand was as hot and fresh as the day he received it, where Phobos’s wings tore in his hands again and again.

Where his mother’s sobs welled up as he was torn from her very arms, echoing after him long after the Panthera’s hatch door had shut and they had flown far, far away.

Meouch didn’t have dreams. All he had was nightmares.

He touched the phaser at his hip, biding his time, hoping to find more answers as he did. “Why are you doing this?” He asked it, unsure if it would reveal itself so candidly to him.

It answered back in an eager voice, so loud it bounced around inside of his head. Was this what it was like for Sung and Havve? He couldn’t stand it. “The star singer asked me the same thing beforehand. I am Baltaschchit I was made to rid the world of waste. That is my purpose, and that’s why I’m getting rid of you and why I’ll be getting rid of him too.”

All of these things. People and their belongings, the places they called home… Their very world had been taken from the by this thing. Baltaschchit as it had called itself. No wonder it had chased him and Sung until they were very nearly drawing their last breaths. That was all it knew. It continued, it’s voice the brightest thing for miles. “But you see now it’s not as scary as you would think. It’s painless. Sleep always is.”

“Is he here?” Meouch growled, growing tired of listening to this inane bullshit Baltaschchit was insistent on spouting.

It giggled, thinking this to be game perhaps, or maybe just simply amused at his growing frustration. “Who?” It asked, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Sung. Is Sung here?” It was all too easy to picture him resting with a blissful smile upon his face among the metal flowers, his core dim in the dreaming dark. “The star singer.” He didn’t know what those words meant, why Baltaschchit kept calling the other boy that name, but if garnered Meouch a response he’d use them as much as he could.

It’s tone soured immediately. “No. He’s still causing trouble, wasting my time. Our time.” He hated that pluralisation. It was alien and wrong, but something inside of him was beginning to see it as right. I’m not you, you’re not me. Get out, get out, get out! His left paw found his right wrist, his claws pushing past his fur, finding the still healing skin with practiced ease.

Baltaschchit’s voice pitched low. “What, do you will think that will help you? Center you, even if it’s just a little while? Do it all you want, but the poison will still remain.”

It was Meouch’s turn to laugh, but all he could manage was one that was brittle and broken. “How are you doing this? Even before… before you…” He couldn't bring himself to say the words, but he thought them in their shared silence of their mind. _Swallowed me up, made me disappear._

Made me even _less_ of me.

“I categorize your worth, the marks that make you, well, you. Each little facet, fact, thing that makes you tick. I know how long it’s been since you’ve touched a piano, how many cigarettes you’ve managed to smoke since getting on that ship, the ease in which you ripped the Lepid’s wings from his back, how good you felt when you did-”

“OUT.”

His scream spilled out into the dark, traveling miles away from him. “You don’t have the right.” Meouch seethed at Baltaschchit, hating how he could feel how smug it was. This was worse than Sung’s gentle probing as he got a sense for how he felt that day. This was a violation, a trespass, wrong. He could feel it rooting deeper, digging up more. “Get out!”

“Sleep.” It offered back. “It’ll be easier that way.”

Meouch rolled his eyes and managed a tight, “yeah, right.” in response- but deep down something in him already was aching for it. Baltaschchit wouldn’t be able to bother him if he just slept, and he was so tired too… all that running… Just for a little bit, a voice inside his head reason. Just for a while.

His lids slipped and before he knew it, with a dreamer’s sigh, he had too.

-

This was dangerous. Stupid, really, but dangerous at least gave it some kind of significance. As if he was daring and dashing, not desperate and hoping for the best. But then again, Sung knew who he was, and stupid was definitely something that could be used to describe more often than not.

“The things you do for friendship.” And the good of an entire planet, he supposed. Fuck, he was getting distracted. Sung blew out a breath through his nose and straightened, grip tightening on the makeshift clamps he had made through sheer ingenuity and good fortune of junk left over on the ship.

He stepped back out into Metalion, surprised to find how much time had passed. The sun was setting, throwing everything into blood orange and black. Meouch could be dead, he realized. Dead because you didn’t set off that flare, dead because you wasted time.

Or maybe he was waiting to be rescued, Sung reasoned with himself nervously moments after. Yeah. He’d never let the Leoian live _that_ one down. Damsel in distress Meouch, waiting to be rescued by handsome prince Sung.

He hiccuped out a nervous laugh and tightened his grip once more before plunging into the woods.

Unbidden, a song he and Bombus worked on once upon a time came to him as he crept along. Sung was desperate to fill the silence, his nerves making him a total wreck. One cord and then the next in another time, another world, the keys of the synth sure and steady under his fingers, Bombus’s fingers deftly shredding along the frets of his guitar. Sung hummed it now, remembering every measure and beat.

Something moved, causing the metal leaves above his head to shake.

“Baltaschchit.” Sung called out in a self assured voice, because it couldn’t be anything or anyone else.

“Star singer.” It chorused back as it rolled into the clearing, smiling at him with a tilting mouth, showing off too many teeth. “Glad to see you’ve come out of hiding.” It had to have known he wouldn’t leave Meouch behind, much less any of it’s other victims, but that didn’t mean it had to sound so damn smug about it. “It makes everything much easier this way.”

Sung ground his teeth together. “Does it?” Where was Meouch, what have you done with him? But he couldn’t ask those question. Not yet, at least. “Why didn’t you just try to take me by surprise?” You’re wasting time, he nearly told it before remembering how badly that had gone before.

“You know my secret, it seems. Found it out with my other half. Is that what that little battery pack is for?” It had seen it then and it knew. For better or for worse there was no hiding it now. “But you won’t find him if you kill me.” It informed him, smug tone increasing.

Gods, what he would give to have his core work right now. He couldn’t tell if Baltaschchit was lying or not, and while all signs pointed to the fact that it had to be, something in Sung insisted that it wasn’t. “Any of them, for that matter.” It continued on, too pleased for it’s own good. “But you can if you just submit.”

Sung scoffed. His suit was dry now and felt stiff upon his body, his armor suddenly a thousand pounds. “Wow, yeah, that’s such a good offer, how can I refuse?” He asked in a dry monotone. “You might want to work on your sales pitch.”

“Ah, but you see, it’s true.” There was that tug again, that sense that it wasn’t lying to him. “You’ve proven yourself… resourceful, star singer. Much more capable than your friend. I find you quite peculiar indeed.” Had it given other’s a choice like this? Some kind of second chance? “But one can only rely on luck so much before the Fates string them up without regret.”

“What do you know of Fate?” Sung gave a snort.

“I know what they know.” The hundreds it held hostage, it meant, Sung figured with a wince. “That there are things that simply must come to pass. Their fates were intertwined with mine when they decided to create me as they did. You came to that realization as well, in a sense, when you learned of my fail safe. The Fates were in your favor then, will they be now, star singer?”

 _Sung,_ he swore he could hear Havve warn him. _Don’t._

But he did, of course, because that’s how he operated.

He leveled the flare gun at it and pulled the trigger as fast as he could, before Baltaschchit could make sense of what was happening. He hadn’t ever fired a gun before, and this wasn’t even a real gun, but the recoil shot up the entire length of his arm, nearly throwing him to the ground. “Are they in yours?” He shot back before he started to run.

He heard Baltaschchit scream behind him, a scream full of hate and rage. He wondered if those people it had trapped could feel pain, and if Meouch was feeling it too. “Sorry.” Sung said under his breath. “Sorry, sorry.” The forest was dark now as he raced into it and his core was the only light he had to guide him through the silver and black night.

It was coming after him and fast. Faster than before. Sung skidded to the left and then the right, trying his best to remember the path he had took. Don’t fuck up Sung. Don’t be stupid now. Left, left, right and then left again. Five steps, then twenty… Gods, he was tired, but no time to think about that. Just keep running Sung. Just for a little while longer.

But then it appeared out of nowhere, it’s teeth gnashing, eyes rolling, and hands, oh gods those hands were on him in an instant, crushing him. “Did you think you could beat me? Did you really think that it would be that easy? That you could win?” He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe! Baltaschchit didn’t seem to care though. “I ought to kill you. I think I might! You’ve upset me one too many times.”

It could do that, but not if he did it first. Sung’s feet kicked at the air uselessly as he tried to grab the clamps. So much for his original plan (equal parts electric current and water on the ground from his canteen.) This would have to do. If he could manage it, that is. “Do you think your robot and the Lepid would come after you? I would like to think so. After all, they both care so much, even if they can’t say it out loud.”

Sung sucked in another desperate breath and finally made contact with the clamps. “You don’t.” He choked out, vision going black. “You don’t know them…” Like I do, he wanted to add, but found it impossible to.

“Oh, but I can, and I will.” It sang. “Now-”

Sung didn’t wait. Couldn’t anymore. He shoved the clamp into the first soft surface he could find. An eye. Oh gods, that was an eye. It gave away like it was made of bubble wrap, resisting only to give with a loud and satisfying _pop_ that made Sung heave. He held steady though despite that, his stomach roiling the entire time. Baltaschchit screamed at the intrusion and without warning the damaged eye socket turned into a mouth, teeth snapping down on his wrist, hard enough to draw blood. “Do it.” Baltaschchit challenged. “And I’ll bite it clean off.”

A stalemate then. He gave a choked laugh, his chest heaving as he did. “You’ll still break apart.” Sung whispered. “And I can always make another arm.” It was insane, sure, but not the worse thing. Worth it if it worked… Gods, when had he started thing like this? When desperation took hold, he reasoned a moment later, when you had nothing left but your need to survive.

Baltaschchit sneered. “Would you risk all that and still not have your friend at your side? I told you once already, you won’t find him if you kill me.”

Submit, submit. Sung swallowed against the pressure at his throat and chest, ignoring the way it held tight to his legs and arms as well. There had to be some way to beat this thing and save them all.

How else could you demagnetize a magnet? Pressure, AC currents, self demagnetization, heating it up… Fuck. None of that would work. Not at all.

“You’re not going to find another answer, star singer. I’ve won.” And it had, Sung supposed. There was no getting out of this. No way in hell. “You’ve wasted enough of my time. Make a choice. You can try to kill me, or I can kill you- or better yet, you can simply accept that this is it. You’ve lost.” The hands tightened, squeezing the last bit of air out of his chest.

Havve would be so disappointed, he couldn’t help but think, as he dropped his head in submission, the last thing he could hear was Baltaschchit’s victorious laugh.

-

Meouch stirred, his lashes fluttering as he accidentally slipped back into the waking world. Where was he again? Somewhere dark, somewhere safe, somewhere good…

He closed his eyes and saw only fire and decided to open them again.

He was restless, which he knew ought to be impossible, and yet here he was. Sleep, something inside him demanded, but he didn’t like the sound of that.

Don’t tell me what to do, he very nearly said back, recalling a distant memory of when he had wanted to, and then of when he had.

A purr rumbled through him though despite his best efforts, a dream deep sigh slipping out as well. They were only nightmares, Meouch. They weren’t real. Except they had been once, he reminded himself moments later. You didn’t just make that up in the depths of your REM.

But who cares? It was done and over with. No one would bother him here anymore. You didn’t wake dreamers, after all. So go back to bed, sleepy head, a voice like his mother’s chided him gently.

Meouch could of if not for Sung.

He fell like a star from a place that Meouch couldn’t find in time, his body too tired to move in time. If he was being honest with himself, this almost felt like a dream too. Sung in his yellow-black, here in the dreaming dark of Baltaschchit. He shouldn’t be, couldn’t be… and yet he _was_.

Wake up, he told Sung without actually telling him, his mouth too tired to form the syllables and move. You need to wake up and do something, damn it. Before we both end up stuck here. Stuck? No, this wasn’t a place to be stuck. This was a place to rest, and to dream...

Meouch closed his eyes again, slower this time, convinced, and found Kion’s hand at his throat on the other side.

He jolted in every sense of the word. Mentally, physically, emotionally too. Sleep, the voice reminded, becoming insistent. It will pass. But he couldn’t sleep because Sung was throwing his head up towards all of them.

Towards him.

“Meouch.” He heard the empath breathe out in wonder as their eyes met, something like a smile sliding over his face, as if he had momentarily forgotten how to manage it after everything that had happened so far. “I can feel you again.”

Oh.

_Oh._

He startled into awakeness because that should have been impossible given the circumstances, but here they were, someway, somehow. “Also, you’re alive, which is even better news!” That little bastard. Meouch couldn’t believe it.

Neither could Baltaschchit.

It coiled inside of his mind, watching Sung through his eyes, rage growing until it was too big for Meouch’s body. He choked on it, his fur beginning to stick up on end with how _visceral_ it was.

“You know, I thought I had this all figured out, but this is… something.” Sung whistled, the sound carrying on the dead air. “Baltaschchit!” He hollered at the top of his lungs. “You going to keep hiding or what?!”

Tell him to shut up, Baltaschchit demanded. His mouth moved finally, but not in the way he wanted it to. “Be quiet.” Meouch hissed at Sung despite his best efforts. No, no, no. Don’t do that. It didn’t like that. Keep going, damn it.

The younger boy’s eye narrowed in response. He stayed quiet though, apparently heeding Baltaschchit’s warning spoken by his tongue. Damn it. Feel the frustration Sung. Use that stupid core of yours. He was wide awake now but still held in place by Baltaschchit and those metal vines.

Sung leaned down without warning, placing his hands upon the ground. He looked so small. Smaller than he usually managed. Everything hinged on Sung in this very moment and the Leoian didn’t know how to feel about that.

He saved you once Meouch, he could do it again. But he hadn’t really, had he? Sung had just gone through the motions, ignorant to the fact that he was already healing himself whole once more. And yet he had done it without knowing who Meouch was, what he had done, and even as he learned those truths Sung had let him stay. Pity, Meouch had been certain that Sung pitied him after everything was said and done, but then he smiled at him, challenged him, asked him to go to this stupid planet with him...

“ _Friends_.” He had heard him him say to Havve one night before all of this had begun, standing near his door when the alone-ness of his room had become too much for the night. It had been a large assumption, but something in Sung’s voice had been yearning, and in turn Meouch had been scared. He didn’t do friends. Didn’t trust himself with any kind of connections whatsoever after everything that had happened. Didn’t think himself worthy of them either. He was damaged, just as Baltaschchit had told him.

But Sung saw something in him despite all that.

“Friends.” He mouthed the word to himself silently, feeling hopeful for the first time in months, no, years. “Sung!” The empath’s name fell from him to the ground, surprising both of them and Baltaschchit as well. It shrieked inside his mind but Meouch ignored it, speaking above the rising din. “Don’t listen to it.”

“Oh, thanks for the tip, Meouch.” The other boy threw back. “Ignore the evil sentient magnetic blob. Check.” Magnetic? Oh...That made sense! What with all the metal surrounding them. But there the fact of the trees, the ground... “You having fun up there? It looks real neat, I have to admit.”

“Y’know what Doc, I’ll give you that.” They were laughing. Actually laughing and bantering in the face of this terrible thing and it felt good, like it was second nature to them. “But I’m not having the greatest time if we’re being honest.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here to save you.” Sung exclaimed. “I just uh, don’t… don’t know how. I’m working on it though!”

That makes two of us, but Baltaschchit had stolen his voice again, and all he could do is stare at Sung as he fought against the sleep that threatened to take hold once more. I thought I told you to get out he told it, but it just growled in response. Had it really thought Sung would be an easy target? Once again Meouch was reminded of the fact that he was a supernova. Stupidly bright and near impossible to contain. “Star singer.” A voice rang out from all around them, above and below and from side to side, coming as a shock. “How long can you play this game?”

“As long as it takes.” And Meouch didn’t doubt it. Not when Sung stood there with his fists clenched loosely at his side, his core shining from his chest like a beacon in the night. He was only seventeen and yet he seemed older. Much, much older than his physical form let on to be. “A part of you asked me what else it was supposed to do, and it was right. This is all you know, but I can’t let this continue as it is either.”

“Even if it’s the right thing to do?” Baltaschchit challenged.

Sung’s jaw worked silently as he turned himself in a full circle, spreading his arms out wide. “You told me you exist to rid the world of waste, and sure, we create a lot of waste and excess, maybe that’s _all_ that we do, but in that mess there’s amazing things. Things that you’ve snuffed out, things you haven’t let happen as they should. That’s why I have to.”

“Then do it.” Baltaschchit didn’t even wait more than a second before it gave a loud laugh, cutting Sung off before he could even begin. “Oh wait, you can’t. You couldn’t do it up there and you sure as hell can’t do it here in my domain. So we’ll play this waiting game you’re apparently more than eager to partake in, and once your will falters, once you finally reach your physical limits, then I will win, just like before.”

Sung’s core flickered but his expression didn’t change. What was he thinking down there in that dirty blonde head of his. Around them the dreamer’s held their breath, as if in waiting to see what Sung would do or say.

“Meouch.” Sung broke the silence with his name in a calm and carrying voice. “You bastard.” His tone colored with fondness then as he reached up. “Tell me you have your lighter on you.”

The same lighter he had hoisted up above how long ago? The same lighter Sung probably hated until this very moment in time. He smiled despite Baltaschchit’s hold on him and managed a tight nod.

“What are you doing to do with a lighter?” Baltaschchit hissed, almost curious inside of Meouch’s mind.

Sung grinned. “What else do you with a lighter?”

Meouch knew. And that’s why he let it drop into Sung’s open, waiting palms.

He had dreamed of fire before waking. Maybe it had been a sign. The empath leaned down to the ground once more and flicked it once, twice.

“Don’t.” Baltaschchit warned, suddenly afraid. But Meouch knew Sung didn’t take to warnings like that.

And so he did.

It didn’t catch, of course. It was barely anything at all. Just a flicker of a flame against the dark ground, but Baltaschchit groaned as Sung held it in place. “You’re weak.” Sung said to it now. “Spread yourself too thin over too many years. It’s different up there, right? The trees help so long as you don’t get too close, but this part of you… this is the true part. The part that counts.” So it was three in all. The one that had gone after Sung, his, and this one, infinite. “That’s the other fail safe. Time. Pulling you apart at the seams, making you susceptible to anything else that could kill you, like heat and pressure and electrical currents, right?” He grinned a wild card grin. “How do you think your Curie point has fared over the years, Baltas?”

Baltaschchit writhed inside his mind, causing Meouch to wince. All around him he could hear the breathing quicken, the way that it did before someone woke up from their deep sleep state. Sung reached into that hip bag of his and produced something that made Meouch laugh loud and hard before he could help himself.

Vodka from his secret stash.

Sung gave it a shake before he began to spill it out on the ground. “Don’t.” Baltaschchit spat with his tongue once more. “You have no right. You… you’re going to kill them all if you do that.”

“Not if you let us go.” Sung hummed as created a liquor trail. “I think we can reach an agreement.”

“An agreement?!” It bellowed, back to speaking outside of him again. Gods, what was Sung on about now? Meouch narrowed his eyes, nose curling from the potency of the alcohol even all the way up here. That was some of his best stuff, damn it. Even if Sung managed to get them out of this alive, the Leoian was going to make sure the Doctor paid him back for that. “What could you possibly offer to me that I don’t already have?”

The bottle was empty now, dangling by the end of Sung’s gloved fingertips. “You’ve been living on just this for how long until we came along? Don’t you want more? Let them go, and they’ll keep making waste for you to take and take.” He looked so stupidly proud like this, and in a sense he had every right to be, didn’t he? “It’s what you were made for, after all.”

It was so simple. Stupid simple. Even Baltaschchit seemed shocked by the answer. Maybe because that’s what it had done until that hadn’t been enough for it and it had wanted more. When had that happened? When had things changed?

That’s what Funk had been like. Nothing else mattered, but also nothing was ever enough. He needed more, more, more. As much as he could take to feel like he was something instead of nothing. That he was something _more_.

The lighter flicked to life again, so loud in the waiting quiet that Meouch nearly flinched at it. “It’s your decision.” Sung offered, too kindly in the face of how awful this truly was.

The silence was deafening until Baltaschchit finally broke it.

“They’ll kill me.”

It was speaking in it’s child voice once more, the softest Meouch had heard it since this all began. “They hate me. I know. I’ve seen their dreams, their nightmares. They’re all a part of what I am and even if they don’t know it they do know what I’m capable of. So I can’t. I don’t want to die.” To be burdened with such knowledge when you were just doing what you were made to do. Meouch almost felt bad for it.

“I’ll talk to them.” Sung murmured back in a gentle voice. “I’ll make them understand.”

The quiet stretched once more and Meouch found himself leaning into it, towards Sung and Baltaschchit’s answer. Say yes, he willed it. If anyone could do it, it was Sung. There was something about him. Something inexplicable but simultaneously wonderful and kind.

Suddenly, everyone sighed in their sleeping voices except for him. “Oh, star singer.” They said in voices that were sweet and perfumed. “Whatever would we do without you?”

The world plunged into darkness once more, and all Meouch could think was that he was falling before he lost himself in it again.

-

The first thing Sung saw was stars.

He hadn’t had the opportunity to look at them before, what with all the running for his life, but he looked at them now in a way he had never looked at them before now.

_What am I?_

He sat up and looked around and gave a bit of a start. Meouch was there and so was everyone else. And everything else. And just… oh gods, this was a lot. “Baltaschchit.” He whispered, afraid he’d wake everyone else up.

“...I am here.” It whispered back from the forest’s edge.

Sung tiptoed his way over countless bodies towards the humanoid shape. “I’m all that’s left.” It gestured to itself, voice wavering. “There was so many. I had lost count over the years...” it looked away, ashamed.

It had just been doing it’s job though. That wasn’t the right thing to say though in this moment, so Sung just knelt before the strange creature and let his hands hover over it’s shoulders, still not trusting it enough to swallow him up again. “Mistakes happen to everyone.” They were stirring now. They were running out of time. He had so many questions though. What am I, what did you mean? “You trust me, right?” He asked instead.

It gave a harsh bark of a laugh that didn’t suit it’s tiny body. “Who else do I have to trust?” It really didn’t sound like it did. Sung was his last bet after all, and the empath had a feeling he was a shit hand to be dealt. He was a literal child from somewhere far flung from here, speaking on it’s behalf when it had gone and dug it’s grave six feet deep.  

He forced himself to turn, caging his questions for now. Later. When he knew Havve and Phobos were safe and they weren’t faced with hundred of lost souls to give explanations to. It could wait a little while longer. “Let me handle this.”

His core was useless in his chest again now that they were above ground, so Sung could only guess that the first alien awoke with a mix of confusion and fear. At least it was a native. Sung approached them carefully, one hand covering his core and the other held out towards them. “Welcome back.” He spoke in careful Universal, hopeful it would understand.

“Where was I?” They managed back.

Sung sighed through his nose. This was going to be fun.

-

 

He woke up to murmurs and starlight.

Meouch pushed up on his arms, looking around as he got his bearings once more. Metalion, Baltaschchit, the dreaming, Sung. He was there the moment Meouch thought of him, as if summoned, his hands touching his forehead, his face. It should have been unwelcomed, and deep down something in him squirmed at the contact, but it was all too easy to lean into with a heavy sigh. “Meouch.” He heard the empath sigh, a wavering sort of sound. “You’re okay.”

“Debatable.” The Leoian said before he could help himself. He looked up then and found Sung staring at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“...I’m two for one with the jokes with you. This has to be some kind of record.” He laughed a hitching laugh, short and sharp and filled with disbelief. “Gods, I’m… What the fuck just happened.”

Meouch regarded him warily for a moment before he gave a quick shake of his head. “Bullshit is what it was. Is it still-?” Alive, here, waiting.

Sung caught on. “Yeah, but let’s keep that hush hush for now. Just waiting for everyone else to wake up first.” Meouch saw it then. The way his lips turned down, brow furrowing silently. “I’m sorry.” He said after a beat, surprising him.

“For what?” Meouch nearly laughed before realizing how bad it would come off. The Meouch before all of this would have, but he wasn’t that Meouch anymore, it seemed.

“I did this. I picked out this stupid planet, made us come here, and look at how that turned out. We could have died.” Sung closed his mouth and seemed to reconsider. “You could have died, Meouch.”

Sung did that, he noticed. Made himself out to be less important than he actually was. “Doc.” Meouch tapped the top of his head with the back of his paw, causing the empath to startle. “You saved all of these people. They’d still be sleeping if it wasn’t for you. So, ease up on the I fucked up party and maybe take a lil’ pride in yourself, yeah?”

Something worse than Sung’s frown happened then. It started with a lower lip wobble, then a sniff, a whimper, then a low whining noise. “MEOUCH.” He wailed suddenly, throwing his arms around him, nearly knocking him back onto the ground. “DON’T GO!”

“Don’t go!?” Go where? Wait. That’s right. The earlier offer. He had nearly forgotten that it had ever been brought up in the first place. “Listen, Sung-” He started.

“No, _you_ listen!” The empath jabbed his chest, poking a startled growl out of him. “I would have died if it wasn’t for you. I was scared shitless, and then I realized that you were in trouble, and that I had to do the right thing, so I put that all aside. And-and just… just… maybe I’m just optimistic but earlier it felt like… like we were fr-” He gulped and wiped his arm over his face suddenly. “A team.” Meouch didn’t miss that slip but he didn’t say anything about it either, instead letting Sung continue until he ran out of steam. “And that’s… That’s all I’ve wanted- is just, just for everyone to get along, and to work together, and today proved that that’s maybe possible. So please, I know I said I’d do it, and I’m not going to break my promise, but… but I really don’t think you should go.”

But what about Havve, and Phobos? How could he ever work alongside Phobos? Living with him was already hard enough as is, but Sung was crying now, soft little hiccuping noises leaving him with each stifled sob. Damn it all. He owed everything to this fucker, didn’t he? A life debt for real. “Gods damn it. Stop crying. ‘M not going anywhere you lil’ shit.” He reached over again, this time ruffling Sung’s hair with his paw. The empath’s watery eye widened.

“Y-you mean it?”

Meouch bit back a groan, knowing he’d regret it later. “...Yeah,” fuck it. “Why not?”

Of course Sung hugged him, so tight he could barely breathe. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” He muffled against his vest. “It’s going to be amazing.”

“Well, if it’s anything like this-” It had gone quiet, and Meouch looked up to see everyone watching them. Oh, awkward. He swallowed and tapped Sung’s shoulder, causing him to jump up in response. “...I think this is uh, your cue.”

Sung stood and cleared his throat, not so subtly going up on his tiptoes to appear taller. “Residents of Metalion, and uh, other present persons… My name is Sung, and uh.” He coughed into his fist. Poor kid. Meouch stood then too, putting a hand on Sung’s shoulder as he leaned towards the crowd.

“Doctor Sung here saved all your lives just now from something called Baltaschchit.” A murmur went up in response, a mix of understanding, horror, and confusion spreading across the masses. “We came here not knowing it existed, probably like some of you here who are not native, or maybe not. Who knows. The point stands that you’re all alive because of Sung’s quick thinking. But before you start thanking us, you ought to know Baltaschchit is still alive.”

They couldn’t _not_ tell them. The response was immediate. Everyone looking over their shoulders, some screaming, some trying to find places to hide… but Sung stood his ground, and so did he. “Listen!” Sung called out. “We’ve come to an agreement!”

“You bargained with it?” Someone gasped.

“And you made it.” Sung threw back, surprising Meouch. “Your responsibilities are not ours. We made do with what we had.”

They were as quiet as they had been in their dreaming now, watching Sung and him with nervous eyes. “You made Baltaschchit to rid your world of its waste, and it did it’s job as it was meant to. You can’t deny that fact. If we’re being honest, it did it’s job too well, but that’s why we’re here now, because I know that a system based on mutualism can be established. Baltaschchit, don’t you?”

It came into the clearing, so dark it was barely distinguishable from the night. When it was like this it was all too easy to compare to those magnetic slime toys children could buy, it’s shape ever changing and reshaping itself, shining as it slid into the moonlight. Maybe it was because it was weaker now too. No one moved, no one breathed. “For what it is worth, I’m sorry.” It finally spoke. “I only wanted to help.”

Finally, someone moved forward. They had to be nearly eight feet tall, their body made of pointed geometrical shapes. “You became greedy.” The alien informed it.

Baltaschchit’s body moved with a regretful sigh. “I did.”

They sighed then before lowering their head in shame. “But so did we.”

Apparently they were known as the Lodem, and under Federation rule they had very nearly torn the entire planet apart to give them the materials they needed. “They were always asking for more, and we kept giving it to them, consequences be damned.” The alien told them. “We were losing ourselves in more ways than one, so we created Baltaschchit. Crafted it with lodestone at it’s core, a compliment to our own makeup, but over time things changed.”

“Some thought you a vengeful god coming to punish us for our greed, others thought you our sins manifested, but no matter what we did there was no escape. Even the trees couldn’t keep us safe. They repelled us, just like they repelled you, Baltaschchit. We tried to find your true source but we couldn’t, but we see now… you were underground. The ground was the opposite to you, so you could cling to it’s underbelly and hide.”

It all made sense now. Damn thing was too smart for it’s own good. “Wait, wait, hold up.” Okay, never mind… Gods, he could really go for a cigarette now. And a bath. Sung planted himself in front of Baltaschchit, not caring how close he got. “Are you telling me… that you’re made of a material that can block out my empath abilities?”

Empath, empath, empath. The word tore its way through the crowd as they came closer. “You’re an empath?” The first alien from before asked.

“He is.” Bataschchit answered for Sung. “His assumption is also correct, I uh, have that effect on telepaths as well. Really, anything in that realm. It just bounces back.” Okay, now everything made sense, all the way back to when they first landed here. Meouch gave an impressed noise in the back of his throat before he continued to watch, not sure of where this was going next.

Sung’s core went bright in his chest as his eyebrow raised high up onto his brow. “...Say.” He ventured, leaning in closer, causing everyone to grimace in worry including Meouch. “...You think you could spare some?”

Baltaschchit looked up at him slowly. “Why?”

Sung clapped his hands together in delight. “It’s a secret!”

A secret? Of course. Meouch’s brows raised and he had a feeling he now knew how Havve felt more often than not.

-

Home sweet home.

Everything had ended on a good note. As good of a note as one could manage after all of that nonsense. Baltaschchit had agreed to more safeguards being placed upon it, and in turn the people of Metalion were given the hope that they could rebuild again on their terms without the interference of the Federation.

Also, he had a nifty piece of lodestone that he could not wait to use.

“There is nothing I want more than to sleep for the next five hundred years.” Sung admitted outloud to Meouch, not missing the way the Leoian rolled his eyes, but also not missing the way he huffed out a tiny laugh. Every little bit counted, after all. “But duty calls, I guess.” Havve and Phobos, if he was being honest with himself. He couldn’t wait to get off this planet so he could finally connect with Havve again, see Phobos too.

“Still can’t believe you didn’t even try to fly.” Meouch commented over his shoulder at him. “I’m gonna have to show you how to pilot this thing one of these days.”

One of these days. It sounded like a promise, even when Meouch said it so casually, Despite everything this had been worth it in the end, Sung realized with a hopeful smile. Progress, he thought, remembering the way Meouch mouthed it inside of Baltaschchit.

And all was good until they broke the atmosphere.

Havve. Oh gods, Havve.

He stumbled with one step, everything bombarding him. The fog, someone who was Phobos but was not, racing doubts, a knife in his side, the feeling of his (his-Havve’s-his?) fingers digging into the mask on his face, eager to pull it off… “Sung?” When had Meouch gotten up to grab his shoulders? When had he started to shake him? “Doc?”

“We need to go.” Sung gasped out. “Now.”

“The ship is damaged.” Meouch didn’t say it cruelly. It was a matter of fact. “We need to be careful.”

But it’s Havve, he nearly shouted before he caught himself. And Phobos too. Something was wrong, terribly inexplicably wrong. How did he tell Meouch that? How did he explain? Sung grabbed the front of his vest and forced himself to pull back into his own head. “As fast as we can, then.” He gritted out. “Please, gods.”

He forced himself to stay inside his head, blocking Havve out. Why had he chosen planets so far away? Why hadn’t he just picked one and kept them all together? Why had this gone so wrong on both ends? All he could think about was Phobos, scared and alone, and Havve going out of his mind (dream, not dream, dream?) “I did this.” He said miserably to Meouch. “To all of us.”

A subtle annoyance came over the Leoian but he didn’t say anything at first, leaving Sung to stew. “Don’t think of it like that.” He grumbled after a bit.

“Then how else am I supposed to think about it?” Sung choked out, knowing he was about to cry again.

“...Just don’t think about it at all, if that’s what it takes.”

Meouch’s shoulders were drawn up tight and stiff but his focus was forward and beyond. “Even if it’s just for a little bit, just ignore it. You don’t know what’s happening, and you’re gonna overthink it, and just make yourself miserable with the possibilities.”

Sung sniffled. “When did you start doing the pep talks around here?”

Meouch let out a short laugh. “You’re a bad influence like that, doc.”

So he sat there on his hands, trying to think of other things but failing to do so, finally settling on thinking of nothing at all except for the feel of the lodestone in his fingers until they arrived. He still didn’t dare pull down those walls that kept him shut off from Havve, not trusting himself to, even as they landed. Gods, he was scared. “Meouch-” He started as the hatch began to open, hating the feeling of sweat lining his spine once more.

“I’m gonna stay here, comm me if there’s any issues.” The older boy nudged him then, out into the dissipating fog. Something was happening, that or something had changed. “Get this ship working again.”

“But-”

“But nothing, Sung. Go out there and figure it out.” He had almost grabbed the lodestone once more, eager to not feel whatever lie beyond, but there were somethings you just had to do, no matter how scary they seemed...

You braved the tundra, you saved Meouch, twice! Faced down Baltaschchit with nothing but a lighter and liquor and the hope that you could win.

You can do this Sung.

Even if you were alone.

He took his first step onto the planet and let his core get a feel for what was going on. Surprise and… joy? He glanced back at Meouch and found the Leoian watching him with his arms crossed over his chest and his brows raised high. “I’ll comm you.” He said, not sure if he was reassuring himself or the other.

Meouch gave him a fake salute, smiling almost. “Roger, doc.”

Sung ran then, nothing like on Metalion, but still with purpose and stride. How many hours ago were you running for your own life? Now you were running for someone else’s. He felt it then, that familiar flutter joy that caused his own to rise every time he sensed it. Phobos! Phobos was alive!

But what about Havve?

And that’s when he found them. Both of them. Phobos without his helmet, wet haired and smiling under the sun, and Havve… Havve was a mess. His jaw unhinged, his side spilling wires, and yet they were standing right next to one another, not a hint of animosity between them. Phobos saw him first, fingers tapping along the robot's arm to make him aware.

 _Havve_. He managed, finally letting the wall down.

There was a smile in his voice and words when he finally responded back.  _Sung._

-

It took a lot tell Sung to go alone.

It was his own challenge for himself. Time alone of his own choice. Not lurking and lingering in hallways where he was sure he wouldn’t be found. Just time alone with himself, with his thoughts.

 _Good job_. He was certain that second favored voice of his praised. _You’re on the right track._

 _Took you long enoug_ h, the gruffer one informed.

_Oh, so now you’re going to play nice. I see how it is._

Meouch shook his head and went about looking at the wiring, humming an old tune under his breath. Baltaschchit bringing up his mom had been agonizing at first, but now he was thinking about her, about how they used to sit at that old piano…

He was still fiddling with the soldering tool when it happened.

Fleeting footsteps raced up to him and for a moment he assumed it was Sung. Back already? he nearly said before he looked up, jolting when he saw Phobos instead.

He did something with his hands then that Meouch hadn’t ever seen him do before, fingers swiping and curling in the air, causing his head to tilt to the side. What? What are you saying? What do you want? He still couldn’t believe that Phobos was this close to him, staring at him with his bug eyes, his expression unreadable. Was this real life? Gods, was he still dreaming? No, he refused to believe that...

Sung came up behind him with Havve in tow and it was then that Meouch realized he was somehow smaller than Phobos despite being older than him. How had he not noticed that before? It was almost funny in a way, but he couldn’t find the will inside him to laugh. “He says he’s sorry, feels that way, right Havve.” Sung offered before turning to Havve. The robot took a moment before nodding and Sung turning yet again to face them once more. “Yeah, he’s sorry alright.”

Sorry for what? Phobos hadn’t done anything. It was all him. You were just living your life when I came in like a hurricane, wrecking everything left and right. Meouch swallowed but didn’t look away. “Fer what?” He snorted. “I deserved-”

And then the second thing happened, this one more shocking than the first.

Phobos _kicked_ him.

His booted foot tapped against his knee, just hard enough to cause Meouch to jump in bewilderment, not expecting that. “The fuck was that?!” He demanded.

He did it again.

“Hey, stop it!” What the fuck was going on? Was this actually Phobos? He was almost blank faced as he did it, as if he didn’t trust himself to smile or laugh. It was almost funny in a way if not for how weird it was. 

“I think he wants you to like, accept the apology!” Sung called over moments later. “Just a thought, but that’s just me.” Havve leaned in towards him then, prompting a short pause before Sung gave a laugh. “Oh, and apparently Havve!” Of course the robot would be in on it. Bastard. Sung all of sudden looked stupidly proud of himself, putting his hands on his hips as he surveyed their little group. “Dang, this really was a good idea. We’re already getting along better already!”

Son of a bitch. Meouch was up before he could help it, stalking past Phobos and his kicking boots. “A good idea!” He shouted. “Are you kidding me?! You drag my ass into a gods damned metal jungle made up whatever the fuck it was, making it impossible to use neither your telepathic link or your empath shit? Where we were then attacked and chased by-”

Sung laughed nervously before meeting him in the middle. “MEOUCH.” He warned, almost nearly a threat if not for how tiny and annoyed he looked. “I HAVEN’T TOLD THEM ANYTHING YET.”

Meouch pushed his goggles back on his head, feeling stupidly smug. Oh, this ought to be good. Havve was going to go ballistic once he found out what had gone on. Meouch knew how much he cared about the empath, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “Fantastic, because I’m about to tell them everything, starting with-!”

Someone giggled and Meouch could have sworn it was Sung, but it wasn’t loud enough to be him. It was a hissing sound, an accidental exhale, as if it wasn’t meant to happen. Not Havve, not him, not Sung…

That left Phobos.

He was still giggling, now doubling over in apparent delight. He had never seen the Lepid so happy before, not even during his naming ceremony moments before disaster struck. So why now? Why? Meouch threw up his hands before he could help it, but his mouth pulled upwards, lips curling despite himself, despite everything.

Maybe Sung was right. Maybe this had been a good idea after all.

Only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW IT'S DONE!!!! YAY!  
> It took a while to write but i'm happy!!!!! and also dont have really much else to say except im very excited to continue writing more of this!


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